Web of Intrigue
by PrayTonight
Summary: Through the eyes of other characters and the events that happened in between, what has caught itself on the far end of the Itsy Bitsy Spider's web? Behind the scenes of "Along Came a Spider-Woman"! Canon Divergence! SI/OC stuck in MCU!
1. The Other side, The Other story

Here's a prologue for you all.

Those of you who are new and just clicked it without truly reading the entire summary of the story, I recommend you read the first story "Along Came a Spider-Woman" to truly understand what's going on.

I also understand from several messages and comments left behind in the reviews that several people seemed to have not grasped the appearance of the OC's Spider costume. If you are reading from a mobile phone then look into Google images (or whatever your favorite search box is) and click the Spider Gwen costume. It's mostly similar with the exception that the OC's costume has a spider symbol on their chest. For those of you reading the fanfiction site normally, you can simply look on the cover art of "Along Came a Spider-Woman" and click on it to slightly magnify it in order to see it properly.

I was pretty sure I explained it in the story in chapter 9 in "ACASW" but I suppose a lot of people skipped that. Well, hopefully you guys know now how she really appears in the story. Anyway, here's the first chapter for you guys so please leave a review and tell me what you think. I also went and did some tweaking in this chapter because a reviewer left me a kind bit of advice that this story was written a bit poorly but that they loved this story too much to drop it, so I went back to work it a little more. Hope this is better than the last one!

 **Disclaimer:** MCU belongs to Disney and Marvel Studios/Comics, I only claim ownership over my Original Character(s) and a little bit of the plot!

 **Warning:** Language, Violence, Adult Content, possible Triggers (there will be heads-up for these things), and whatever comes to mind.

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Preparations for the experiment was set, but they wanted to be cautious.

The Asset stood on the highest platform with the best viewpoint where he could shoot any hostiles upon command, or by extreme prejudice. The rest of the team surrounded the area, all weapons unlocked and ready to be utilized at the first sign of danger for whatever came through. Waiting, all the Asset heard from down below with his keen hearing was the scientist and engineering team on their discussion of whether they could truly open a doorway beyond their solar system. The Asset tuned them out as their voices grew grating from how irritated they were becoming as time went, filing back a report to make to his superiors about nervous scientists.

HYDRA had no need for a hesitant hand. Hesitance meant doubt, and doubt meant questioning, and questioning lead to—

( _likefiresetabalzethatitreachedintohismindanddestroyedeverythingwhohewas_ )

There was a horn that alarmed everyone within the vicinity that the experiment was about to begin. With all hands at station, the soldiers drew up their weapons and prepared for the worst.

At first there was nothing... until there was flickers of light.

The Asset allowed his eyes to wander towards a platform station where sitting on a metal dais was an illuminated blue box that sparked infinite energy. A niggling sensation itched at the back of his head the longer he stared at it. There was something mesmerizing about the glowing cube sitting on the platform that seemed so—a shout from below made the Asset dart his eyes towards the main objective.

The flickers of light grew more frequent and large in scale, no longer like little matchsticks that he sometimes had seen handlers light up for their cigarettes. The lights were like flames that stubbornly blew out of existence before they had a chance to be of use, but the division was patient enough to continue trying to make the experiment work out.

The Asset knew several important figures were watching the entire experiment from a safe distance via video conference.

The flickering matchstick exploded.

The Asset's eyes flinched at the burning brightness before he forced himself to open them and look for the danger.

... except that he couldn't.

All he could see was an eternal bleeding of blue that overtook his entire world.

Life fire and water meshing together to make this fluid and coiling form that spread throughout the entire place, reaching beyond the people and the floors to reach and go farther.

A ripple of warmth encased the Asset, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of ease as it felt familiar to him. All the coldness that was his strength and bed melted off his shoulders like hands sweeping away the ice from his veins, and he closed his eyes.

It felt _good_.

Nothing lasted forever.

Soon as it had brought light, life, and _spring_ , it exploded once more and then proceeded to implode until it whisked itself out of existence. No sign of the blue that bled into his eyes, the darkness was starting to close in, and the warmth was fading from his tingling fingers.

The Asset blinked, pushing away thoughts that had nothing to do with the purpose of the objective, of the mission, of the way of HYDRA.

( _huddlinginsidetheblanketkeepingwarmandsafe_ )

... Yet there was a sense of exhilaration. Being engulfed in the illuminating blue, it was like a rush of something ancient and powerful seeping inside and flowing out from the top of his head to the underside of his toes. The itching sensation grew in volume, but he quickly restrained it; the Asset refused to be punished over something so trivial. His mind once again betrayed the Asset, letting it wonder about the warmth that had been absent for so long in his service to HYDRA.

For a moment, the Asset wondered vaguely if this was the sort of emotion bliss felt like.

Noise from below brought the Asset back to attention, and he looked to see what all the commotion was about.

There was a body lying at the bottom where the blue light had appeared.

The Doctors, the Agents, the Secretaries, and the Barons seemed to be displeased with the results of their experiment. They all appeared to have dismissed the blue light, the sneers and cold eyes telling enough the operation was immediately a failure. The Asset wondered if maybe there was a malfunction to him if there was no reaction of their experience with the blue light. He did not want to visit the Chair so soon after being defrosted from his cold bed, but the Asset may need to report it. After all, the Asset was considered the slowest in learning the ways of HYDRA, and it appeared his interests were beginning to wane a little despite the long years of training.

For now, the Asset stood and pushed his rifle behind him before he climbed down a ladder, they needed to deal with the unconscious stranger down below. The experiment was a failure but the unknown was still considered a threat to their security.

... the Asset wondered if they, too, had felt the blue wanting to take the cold and leave the fire behind in the Asset's skin.

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One day, after being sent off (and left behind) by his newest and final handler, he was going to learn that _yes_ , she had felt it, too.

( _warmhandsholdingyoursandsuddenlyit'snotjustthebluebutthepersonnolongerstandingnexttoyou_ )

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Bucky scanned the building with a critical eye. It was 7:42, and it wouldn't be long when the person they were looking for would be home come the eighth hour which left plenty of time to kill for him and the others to properly scope the place.

There was nothing beyond the typical security cameras provided by the establishment, and honestly it was quite poor in the safety department considering how many times this place experienced a bunch of break ins and burglaries with cops taking practically forever to respond to a dispatch call. It bothered him how unsafe this neighborhood was, but he could see the appeal of making this a good hide out. The trick to throwing off her pursuers was not to hide somewhere in the safest and securest place but rather somewhere riddled with crime and danger.

"You sure this is the right place?"

Unfortunately for her, she was still inexperienced in the art of truly disappearing off the grid despite her prudent nature. _Fortunately_ , Bucky and Stark were the ones to have found her first before anyone else did.

"Yeah, it's a pretty small and semi-isolated neighborhood, and it's not too far from the populated areas of the city. She'll squat down in places where the rates in poverty and crime are more than average." he answered as he finished checking the entire perimeter. Then he added, "And plus, it's kind of suspicious how someone who works at a good paying job chooses to live in a dump like this."

The other man could only give a small huff of amusement for the small mistake, but shrugged and commented lightly as he stared down at his phone, "Still. _Clever girl_."

There was probably a reference somewhere in Stark's words, but like most of the time, it flew right over Bucky's head. That was alright, he mentally shrugged, he had all the time in the world to catch up to the pop culture he had been missing out on for decades. JARVIS, however, had to play as a glorified "parental control monitor"... whatever _that_ meant.

"Anything from JARVIS?" Bucky asked politely, if only to avoid any awkward air that always befell between him and Stark.

"Nothing that we don't already know." Stark replied coolly, putting an end to any further attempts of conversation.

It was _hard_. Bucky always knew since the very beginning after turning himself in to Stark that it was going to be hard on everyone, especially on the man who had the power to destroy the very _weapon_ that had been used to ruin his life many years ago. Yet somehow, through the anger and hate, Stark _chose_ not to. Months ago, after their first "meeting", if one could call it that, Stark came dangerously close to killing Bucky... but drew enough strength not to finish it.

Apparently, Stark had some amount of time to adjust to the truth. Not a lot but enough for him to not follow through with the temptation.

Besides, Stark wanted _names_ , and he wasn't going to get any answers from a corpse, so Bucky lived to see another day (and so many afterwards that the threat of death faded into nothing).

Before Bucky knew what was happening, he found himself being handled by Ms. Potts who oversaw the process of his rehabilitation by setting up multiple professional doctors and psychologists that were familiar with war veterans and prisoners of war. His case was quite on the extreme level, but it was a challenge the team were willing to take in order to undo all the work HYDRA force feed to him. Decades of torture, discipline, and conditioning were not going to be easy to erase, but it was the first step in the right direction. JARVIS, the AI (not the parasite who hid behind the black screens after his feeble body died), monitored the entire thing and constantly checked on Bucky's progress by asking now and then if the former assassin was alright to proceed or if he would like to stop for the day if it got to be too much.

For a guy who absolutely despised him on a molecular level, Stark really went all out in getting Bucky the best help he could afford with his vast amount of wealth and influence in order for the amnesiac to gain back his autonomy that had been stolen from him for nearly _sixty years_.

And then there was the curious case of Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes.

Maybe it was the pressure, or maybe it was old habits that didn't really want to die, but for the first few weeks at the beginning of his sessions, Bucky always found himself looking at the older man for directions on how to proceed. Just like how a soldier looked to his superior commanding officer (and it wasn't that far from the truth if Bucky kept his original rank back when he had still been in the army).

Rhodes hadn't taken too well to that discovery, assuming that Bucky was disillusioned into believing that he was still being held under HYDRA's control and that he was seeing a new handler. Rhodes went on a long tirade that Bucky was not a plaything or a weapon, he was his own person and that nobody was looking to use him again, and anyone who thought they could would have to go through a billion dollar suit stacked with weapons which was far more destructive than Stark's armor. It embarrassed him how his actions were misinterpreted, but the Lieutenant Colonel's words melted off a few chips of ice from Bucky's heart.

( _youdon'tdeservehim_ )

The doctors who caught on to Bucky's behavior were quick to dissuade the notion of confusion and explained to the ruffled Air Force pilot that it was actually a coping method. Oddly, his actions were compared to that of a drug addict who was suffering from the symptoms of withdrawal after being dependent on a drug that had been constantly administered to him (aka The Chair), and the former assassin was only looking for another outlet. This was a stepping stone to help kick-start the deprogramming of the Winter Soldier as Bucky, an abused soldier, could learn from Rhodes about the healthy relationship between superior and subordinate, something that had been clearly lacking from the Soviet and HYDRA boot camp.

Rhodes hesitated—until Stark stepped in and told the man to take the job because they were grasping at straws, and they needed all the help they could get in erasing every trace of neo-Nazi influence they could get away with.

And from then on, Rhodes and Bucky spent a lot of time together in relearning the basics of human rights.

Those had been frustrating couple of months afterwards. Bucky knew logically how to be human, but his brain kept tricking his body into thinking that no, in fact, it didn't know how to act like a regular person.

Let it be known that Jim Rhodes had enough practice on patience that it would make a Saint absolutely jealous.

The Air Force pilot never pushed Bucky for more than he could give, neither expecting good or bad results in each session with the doctors, never said a word when Bucky finally lost his temper one day and was allowed to let the entire building know how fucking angry he was (and god _damn_ did that feel good), would take Bucky with him to the gym, to run along the coastline of the Malibu beaches, and would eventually take Bucky to visit a shooting range ("Hell man, if you wanted to kill me, you would have done that a long time ago with that sick arm of yours.").

Being reintroduced to choices, consent, safety, and privacy turned out to be an eye-opening experience for Bucky as society progressed further from the social norms he had grown up with back in Brooklyn. Outside of sessions, Rhodes and him went through a lot of documentaries pertaining to every movement from race, classism, gender, and sexual orientation just to name a few. Things that had been taboo and hush hush were out in the open for everyone to freely talk about because of the efforts people from before took to boldly put it out there was made possible.

There was still plenty of wrongs to right, some of which were by _his_ doing when HYDRA wanted another outbreak of violence and destruction in order to set acourse to a direction closer to their interests, but Bucky was willing to work for it in order to pay back his dues.

Rhodes gave Bucky a long look before the pilot gave a small huff and took a sip of his beer, shaking his head while mumbling under his breath, "Just what I needed. _Another_ one."

During the entire rehabilitation, Stark had only popped in once in a while, and Bucky figured the guy could barely tolerate his presence for a short period of time. But then Bucky noticed how pale and sickly the man appeared... and the strange patterns peeping beyond the collar of the man's neckline. The former assassin knew from past experience about how a sickly man would dodge his friends by trying to play it cool, diverting the subject to something different (which was always about the Winter Soldier's progress). So when he asked JARVIS what was up, it was like the AI had been waiting to unleash the floodgates if someone simply _brought it up_!

Tony Stark was _dying_.

Palladium poisoning it was called. The very source being the thing that was keeping the shrapnel from digging into his heart and killing him. Either way, it was a lose/lose situation and it made everyone feel helpless to do anything because even their resident genius couldn't figure out a cure! That was not what made Ms. Potts and Rhodey lose their shit with the engineer, no, it was the part where Stark was barely concerned about dying because he was too busy gathering intel on all the pies HYDRA dipped its claws into. The former assassin could count how many times on his fingers where he stumbled across a nasty argument brewing between Stark and his two friends, and he was always quick to agree with Happy on going out for some beer and burgers.

Him tattling to the others also got him a lot of passive aggressive attitude from Stark afterwards (but Bucky didn't feel a single shred of regret).

And it was during that uncertainty brewing over Stark's possible demise that a little Black Widow came along.

Normally when a recovering amnesiac was able to spot a familiar face, it should have been seen as a good sign, however when it came to Bucky's case—they were the ones who had history with the Winter Soldier of HYDRA.

Or in this case, from the Red Room.

Needless to say, when he had stepped inside Stark's office, he hadn't expected to come face-to-face with a familiar-looking redhead who was the newly hired PA after Ms. Potts' promotion as Stark Industries' new CEO. What followed after was a discrete but hasty phone call to the custodian's office as every furniture in the office was either overturned or destroyed from getting between Bucky and the deadly Black Widow.

"Hey, Terminator!" Bucky startled a little and found Stark waving a hand (still keeping a distance so Bucky wouldn't grab him on reflex). "You with me?"

"Sorry," Bucky coughed. "I was thinking."

"Whatever. Where's Romanoff?"

Instead of answering, his eyes flicked towards the main office building where he could spot the redhead talking to the landlord, interrogating him without the man even realizing it. It was effortless, the way she got what she wanted which was a bit jarring at times to watch. Black Widows, Bucky recalled vaguely, were not the kind of women anyone ever wanted to get tangled with. And besides her expertise on the mats, with her quick reflexes and flexibility, her true talents lied in her mind games. Planting little seeds of doubt, small words to sway and slither under one's skin, those were the kind of dangers one faced when dealing with the Black Widow as she tangled her victim further into her web.

It caused him to keep the dangerous woman farther than an arm's length away from his personal space because like him, she was just as fast to get into someone's space in order to go in for the kill. And with his terrible sleeping habits, her presence in the building where he was suppose to relax made it all the more difficult for him to find reprieve. He clutched tightly to the knife hidden beneath his pillows, back to the corner of the wall as his eyes stayed on the doorway of his room, waiting and listening for the approach of the poisonous creature with blood red hair and hollow green eyes.

His behavior with the Black Widow, and finding out her true allegiance, made Stark's guard go all the more up in the caution department. She was working for SHIELD, the main mask HYDRA hid behind the scenes under the ironically shadow organization. JARVIS kept an eye out for her, keeping Stark, Bucky, and the others notified of her whereabouts and activities.

Unfortunately, just as they had her, she also had leverage over them: the Winter Soldier standing in the middle of Stark's office.

Bucky wasn't the only person walking on thin ice with the other assassin.

Making a wrong move could result in the entire forces of SHIELD raining down on them if they caught on that one of their top agents was easily compromised within twenty-four hours of entering Stark Industries, thus putting Stark and everyone in the spotlight and in danger. The entire company was a front Tony staged perfectly for everyone and himself in order to move around without suspicion being drawn towards them.

But because of Stark's mistake in revealing himself to the public as Iron Man, his status from a weapons designer and manufacturer to a pilot of a technologically advance suit of armor became a blip in SHIELD's radar. The Black Widow had been sent in to reevaluate him, and Bucky knew that this was SHIELD's (and HYDRA's) way of showing that they wanted Tony Stark recruited into their ranks.

It was quite the compromising position to be in: the Winter Soldier, a ghost story to most intelligence communities, standing in the same room with Tony Stark, a genius that created a weaponized suit and answered to no one but himself.

The Black Widow could undo everything Stark worked his ass off to accomplish; uprooting everything the bastards responsible for messing up and creating the chaotic world it was today. The man was literally edging closer to death's door yet refused to stop because he had no time to be sitting on his ass in a hospital room when he could be doing something productive with the limited time he had left.

( _stubbornpunk_ )

It was like a Mexican stand-off.

Stark had JARVIS collect every data left in the HYDRA files and prepared them to be uploaded in the internet should things turn south. The only reason Stark hadn't originally done so in the first place was because it would have put a lot of innocents in jeopardy. If the files had gone public, sure it would reveal the world the horror that was hiding itself beneath their feet, but it would also paint a lot of people as targets because if there was one thing Bucky knew about HYDRA, it would go down taking others with them. Stark worked hard in separating a lot of files out of the hit list, making sure it was cleaned and clear, but there was so many to go and review through even for a super AI like JARVIS.

It left a sour taste in Bucky's mouth to think about that possible scenario coming into fruition, but if push came to shove, Stark would have no choice but to do it in order to give the world a fighting chance.

The threat of exposure stayed the Black Widow's hands—only because her reaction was most _interesting_.

"I got the door number." Romanoff announced as she walked out of the office and towards the two men. "C24, on the west wing."

"Lady's first." Stark sarcastically quipped while gesturing towards the nearest flight of stairs.

A nervous breath escaped the former assassin's lips as he followed after the two, hands folded into fists from inside his pockets as he prepared himself for the meeting that he had been waiting for so long.

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A lot of people knew how tempted Tony sometimes was when it came to challenges. It was like a dare, a gamble, and he was good with reading the outcome of his chances of winning and losing by calculating the math and inputting his skills to level the chances of success. So when there came a point where it was a make it or break it, if he added his chip on the balance, the question was: would it fall to his favor or not? And that's when the dare came.

No bomb threat, no chemical poisoning, no deadly EMP waiting to go off, and no live snake (that had been quite a nasty surprise, thankfully it had been dead before reaching his hands)—yet the searching and scanning yielded no results. JARVIS could not a find a single _trace_ of danger from the innocent-looking cardboard box and the contents inside. And that was what boggled and bothered him so much.

So he sat in the middle of the workshop, eyes glued on the little object that had been the cause of distress for the past twenty-four hours after being urgently informed by his AI that all contact with Pepper and Happy had been lost.

 _ **FOR TONY STARK**_

It was the _second_ time something almost came close to hurting Pepper (and now Happy) because of him. He was starting to regret not keeping his mouth shut at that conference if only to avoid future attempts to hurt him through his closest friends. The reason the truth came out at all was because he had felt spiteful from both that Agent what's-his-face and his salty one-night stand, Christine Everhart.

 _'Should've stuck to the cards,'_ Tony sighed heavily.

While he had been attending a meeting of his own with the Board of Directors, the bastards still complaining about the waste of shutting down the weapons industry that got them so much contracts and put money in their fat bank accounts, when JARVIS suddenly alerted him of the situation. Pepper went to New York to start a liaison with a company that focused on green energy while informing a contractor about the plans of establishing a building in Manhattan. But then a suspicious series of black outs occurred, and that's when everything went down hill.

Once the words "Pepper and Happy" and "possibly in danger" came out, Tony was running out the meeting and towards his nearest available suit before ripping through the Californian skies towards the East Coast. Ignoring the dangerous throbbing emitting from his chest, he pushed all the power to his thrusters if only to get to New York a little faster than under a few short hours. Mid-way of reaching his destination, JARVIS was able to reach out to Pepper and Happy's phones and tablets.

Upon arrival, he forced his way through the police that surrounded the entire building in a desperate bid to reach the people that mattered the most. To his great relief, he found them both unharmed.

"Tony," Pepper shakily exhaled, reaching out to him with a faint tremor from her hands (she was a trooper). "We're okay."

After ensuring that they were safe and sound, Tony allowed himself to focus on the situation that nearly caused him to go into cardiac arrest.

Looking a bit closer at the scene all around him, and taking notice of the photos the police gave to him to inspect, he looked at the uniformed men and women like they were telling him a very poor joke.

The hallways were covered with what appeared to be giant webs that could only be caused by freakishly huge-ass spiders from South America. Cobwebs hanging off the walls, ceilings, and littered across the floor that people had to be careful not to step on them lest they lose a shoe. Among the trapped items were firearms, the triggers too sticky for anyone to pull off without accidentally killing someone.

One photo of a disgruntled-looking Happy glaring at the photographer from when the forensic team had arrived was taken, and Tony saw how a thin rope of webs was able to hold a heavy-weight like Happy aloft a couple feet from the ground.

"They just came in, handed the box to Pepper, and left without a word." Happy explained for the nth time, already having gone over this with the police a couple times because even to Tony this was a bit difficult to swallow. "They didn't _hurt_ anyone. It was mostly subduing anybody with a gun or taser. Whoever had a weapon, they got a face full of sticky webs."

Before Tony could move on, Happy grabbed him his wrist and looked imploringly at the billionaire, at the genius, at his long time friend.

"This person, boss... They stood about two or three inches over five feet, but they were strong enough to lift me off the ground with little to no effort, Tony." Happy said in a hushed tone. "They're not _normal_. It was like I was—it was like I was up against a _super human_."

With that foreboding exchange, Tony turned his attention towards a police sketch artist who had interviewed several of the witnesses in order to draw a sketch of the person whom everyone described with similar details.

In the drawing was a slim-looking individual wearing a suit that fit them like a second skin. Their upper torso was stark white, and a hood fell over their masked face. The bug-like eyes, Tony found, appeared to be surrounded by a bright red color which looked like it had been sprayed around the white lenses. He also spotted that inside the hoodie was the same shade of bright red with neon blue spider web patterns included. There was a similar pattern found on the inner parts of the arms. Then his dark eyes were drawn immediately to a black emblem sketched on the chest of the assailant—a _spider_. The lower half of the suit was all black, sans the thin strips of white from each side of their hip. And on their feet was the same shade of neon blue, looking a bit bulbous at the tip that Tony figured they must be Crocs or something.

Two things ran through Tony's mind after he took in the entire portrait; one, the sketch artist had talent because this was the most aesthetic-looking piece of art Tony had ever seen, and two, who the hell ran around in a costume that looked like it came straight out of the Halloween department store?

And as the report concluded, the costumed maniac who had scared the crap out of Pepper, ran off as soon as the package had been dropped in the wary ginger's hands. The person leaping out the window from the fifteenth floor, disappearing to who knew where. When the police came, they ordered that Pepper remained still while a bomb squad carefully removed the box from her hands while trying to dismantle would could possibly have been a ticking explosive that could have gone off at the slightest movement.

What they found inside was nothing of the sort.

"Two USB's." the police officer who was keeping the contents held one USB carefully for Tony to see a note attached to its side with two words the left the billionaire bewildered.

 ** _I'm sorry_**

 _'Yeah, well, you're going to be sorry once I find you, asshole.'_ Tony glared at the note.

"And this thing, too," the officer added as he pulled out a vellum paper.

On one side of the paper, there was a sketching of a logo he thought he might have seen from somewhere but couldn't remember. He'd probably have to get JARVIS to check it out properly. But then his attention to the paper doubled when the officer lifted the thin note to reveal another image printed on the other side which bleed through the eagle logo thanks to the sunlight illuminating it.

A familiar red skull with tentacles was glaring right back into Tony's face.

Tony stared at it for the longest time, blinking and letting the color red bleed itself into the retina of his eyes the longer he stared hard at the image.

Nobody but history buffs and ancient people remembered a lot about the war that took place near the middle of the twentieth century, but those that actually listened through the monotone voices of their history teachers in high school could remember the whole propaganda reels, and Captain America leading the Allies towards victory. Tony didn't have much of a hard time in his (unnecessary) history courses considering his father practically branded his brain with words and memorabilia about the moron who ran around wearing the American flag as his uniform. And just like any kid who grew up around adults that were all for the moron running around with the American flag as his uniform, Tony was familiar with HYDRA and the tyrannical Red Skull.

Normally, when someone left a message that had to do with an organization that threw more shade than the Third Reich, anyone would be worried. However, for Tony, he instead was left bamboozled.

It was weird enough that Pepper and Happy were met by some freak in a mask, but then they leave behind two USB's (one with a pathetic apology note) with a cryptic calling card with two logos.

 _'Jinkies,'_ Tony blinked as he stared at the box and items from within the safe confines of his workshop (after a lot of convincing on his part to walk away with the evidence from police custody).

This all strangely enough, to him, felt... _personal_.

The vellum card appeared to be some sort of metaphor, it's purpose implying a clue to this whole message: two sides of the same coin. HYDRA and the yet to be identified organization that were back-to-back with one another, and there was an uneasy feeling steadily dropping from inside his stomach. This message was stirring up more questions than it was giving answers, and Tony wanted nothing more than to get to the bottom of it if only to find the answers of why this weirdo was so eager for him to receive this.

He was a bit hesitant with the USB's because they could possibly trigger an EMP or unleash a deadly virus from within JARVIS' mainframe to shut him down completely. Since police equipment was unreliable, Tony had JARVIS and the two bots DUM-E and U scan for anything that looked remotely threatening. Still, there was nothing, and there was no way to know if he went ahead and plugged those in.

A lot of people accused him of being arrogant, and most of the time they were right, but Tony was always careful when it came to managing things on the digital/technical side.

With every investigation resulting in no signs of danger, Tony was left with the decision if he should or shouldn't. JARVIS may be a powerful program, but Tony wasn't stupid enough to actually put his AI at risk; it was like sending a man wearing blindfolds into a landscape infested with minefields.

Still, Tony thought as he glared at the USB with the note taped to its side, somebody was daring him to look and see.

"Alright," he sighed heavily, swiping the USB off the table and turning to a nearby plug, making sure to disconnect everything from JARVIS' servers. "I'll bite."

 _"Are you positive about this, Sir?"_ JARVIS asked, sounding both weary and tired.

Seeing the icon of the USB pop up on the screen of a holographic screen, he clicked on it to open up the file.

"Let's see what sort of surprise you have for me, Itsy Bitsy."

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He barely reached the nearest trash can to heave all the food he had for dinner. His ears ringing like a broken record of her sweet voice before it was _strangled silent_ , eyes burning at the images when he was _crushed_ , and his heart threatening to kill him again from the sight of a _ghost_ that took everything from him that one winter night.

And now—now he knew _why_ that person left them an apology note.

( _helookedhesawandhe **SCREAMED**_ )

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 **ഢҼb oҒ أӣҭԻأᏩմҼ**

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	2. The Sound

As some of you may have noticed: Yes, I updated the first chapter some time ago. And yes, I've also updated and rewrote this chapter as well.

Anyway, to those of you who are new, I'd like to point that an author by the name of _**Reige**_ has started a small community called " **An MCU Self-Insert Original Character Haven** ", and that's where you'll find some good stories. You'll also find **_Skyver Pi_** and the author of the community's story are also added there, and I recommend that you all take a look because those stories are pretty good. Just to warn you, those stories haven't been updated in a long while, but that's probably because they're trying to prepare for the upcoming films like the Black Panther and the Infinity War movies.

Anyway, here's the updated version of the second chapter and sorry that you'll have to wait a little while longer for the third chapter, but know that it makes me very happy to read your comments on how well this story is taken by you dear readers. A smile and grin always blossoms on my face when someone talks about how somewhat realistic and human the character is despite her super strength and spider webs, and how everyone is enjoying the different POV's mainly from Bucky and Tony.

Please remember to leave a review and enjoy the chapter!

 **Disclaimer:** MCU belongs to Disney and Marvel Studios/Comics, I only claim ownership over my Original Character(s) and a little bit of the plot!

 **Warning:** Language, Violence, Adult Content, possible Triggers (there will be heads-up for these things), and whatever comes to mind.

 **Trigger Warning! References to TORTURE, ABUSE, DRUG ABUSE! Read at your own risk!**

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 **ഢҼb oҒ أӣҭԻأᏩմҼ**

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The entire apartment appeared quaint. Normal. Sparsely decorated.

One bedroom and bathroom that had a small living room and even smaller kitchen that also served as the entrance of the apartment. There wasn't much of anything in the small home, but it was well taken care of from the signs of multiple cleaning products tucked away in the kitchen's sink cabinet. The wallpaper looked like they were about to flake and fade, but the absent owner did her best to make her temporary safe space as comfortable as she could.

She was prim, organized, and no absolute slouch. Every nook and cranny dusted and washed, and the scent of bleach lining up the walls and corners of the apartment said much about the lack of bug infestations.

Everything wreaked domestic.

Had this been located into a more safe and stable neighborhood, she would have honestly felt some doubts about whether she was in the right place or not.

But because this apartment was stationed in a crime-riddled hot spot, and belonging to a well-payed employee with detailed records on the amount of income they received, it really was no brainer on tracking down _Edelweiss Booker_.

A healthy dose of paranoia could help sometimes, but too much could create enough holes in a story that it would do more harm than good.

Looking down at her watch, she figured they had less than an hour before the girl would arrive home, so they needed to work quickly. Coulson had eyes on the ground while Clint had his in the air, the HYDRA front clear and quiet under their watch. Director Fury had been adamant that they brought Weiss under their custody before the attention she was drawing to herself would tip HYDRA off.

The only reason HYDRA had yet to mobilize its forces to secure the girl was because they hadn't realize she was the same person they've been looking for. Still, it wouldn't take them long to put two and two together before ruthlessly hunting her down.

But of course, Stark and Barnes kicked up a fuss at the idea of Weiss being left in their hands. Natasha had been there when Stark and his entourage confronted Fury; after all, if an organization was able to hide under the Director's "all-knowing" eye, who was to say that one of their own was leaking information back to the enemy? There was no way Weiss would be safe with them, HYDRA would snatch her up before she could even so much as step a toe into their front door.

The direct slight at their competence, or lack thereof, left a sour taste in her mouth. The tight jaws and narrowed eyes from the other agents told her the feeling was mutual.

Fury had given Stark a most baleful look before frostily telling the billionaire to, "Just get to her first before those motherfucking snakes do!"

The Director only had to give Coulson one look to prompt the agent to take the helm of being responsible in shadowing Stark and Barnes, ensuring that they would successfully extract the young woman all the while securing a safe route to the most secure location Stark approved (because all safe houses were now considered too risky).

"There's no pictures," Natasha observed as she slowly walked around, eyeing the walls and counters. No pictures, no trinkets, no items which spoke of intimacy that would help paint a profile of the girl. "There's nothing personal for her in here."

There was only essential things. It made leaving much easier should her location be compromised. Weiss was a flighty kind of person.

"She doesn't have a lot." Barnes said as he stood inside the kitchen, eyeing the quantity of food hidden away inside the fridge loaded with organic and healthy groceries rather than the typical take-out and artificial food.

"She doesn't have family." she easily translated, staring at Barnes' head. "She doesn't have friends. She doesn't have _anyone_."

People like that were often the most perfect picking to take without a voice of complaint from anyone; nobody cared if another invisible person disappeared. Yet Barnes knew something about the girl that he didn't want to divulge to anyone else, like he was keeping something he wanted for himself rather than letting everyone poke their noses in his business. Granted, his autonomy had been violated for so long that it would make sense he wanted to keep to himself, but this was a person of interest everyone was after and Natasha wanted some transparency of what she was walking into because despite appearances, Weiss was an unknown to her.

And an _enhanced_ one at that.

From the corner of her eye, Stark had paused to listen but remained utterly silent on the subject. Instead returning to inspect an old stereo sitting on the corner of a wooden oak shelf.

All previous assumptions she got from studying and watching through media sources and magazines fell flat when it came to the real deal. Sure, he was kind of obnoxious, witty, a sarcastic smart-ass, and utterly brilliant but he could be aloof and professional—though, from what she saw, that was whenever Barnes happened to be in the same room as him.

That was to be expected. How could anyone interact with someone they knew was clearly responsible with murdering their family? Brainwashed or not, it was his face Stark saw when the Winter Soldier killed Howard and Maria Stark all those years ago.

But true to Stark's repertoire, he baffled everyone, including herself.

Instead of locking him into a prison and throwing away the key (or straight up murdering the man as most victims would have done in Stark's shoes), Tony Stark took Barnes off the streets, kept him safe and under wraps from the public eye (also keeping the public safe from the unleashed Soldier as well), got the unstable man professional help while also consulting with multiple experts on how to undo the brainwashing and conditioning instilled in the ex-assassin.

No longer did she see her attacker, her killer phantom, the source of her nightmares that cost her so many sleepless nights, for the Winter Soldier was more than some muzzled attack dog held by the leash of his cruel masters—he was a man who had been unmade and created before being unmade all over to start again. Beyond the vision of red and crisp overtones Stark displayed, he sought to help rehabilitate the dog rather than put it down.

( _whodoesthatsoundliketoyou?_ )

That arc reactor wasn't just for show.

Natasha paused.

The AC was on yet little air was blowing through the small square ventilation.

"Got something over here," she announced to the others as she pulled out a small switch knife (SHIELD issued).

Flicking out a small screwdriver, she worked on removing the nails. Stark used a much smaller and thinner version of the armor's gauntlet, appearing like a metal fingerless glove that had nifty uses of its own. Like a magnet, the metal plate and screws were pulled out of the wall and stuck against the open palm of the glove. And just like she thought, there lied a black bag inside the open wall.

Unzipping it, all three paused.

"There you are." Stark pulled the familiar wide-eyed white mask.

Natasha watched the rest of the suit slip out of the bag, blinking owlishly at the bright blue Crocs that tumbled at their feet. What she previously assumed to be a high-quality tailored suit to help the masquerading young woman in combat turned out to be, much to Natasha's internal bewilderment, nothing more than a flimsy catsuit with Croc shoes attached to the bottom of black leggings. The ever present critique in her raised a brow at the infamous costume that had haunted every computer screen back at HQ.

Croc shoes? _Really_?

 _This_ was the "Spider-Woman" of Chicago?

From high speed car chases to armed store robberies, the wall-crawling hero was on the scene when things seemed to take a turn for the worst. Strangely enough, Weiss never seemed to overstep on the boundaries of the authorities, ever so considerate of the delicate situation between the community and its fragile trust with the law enforcement in the wake of Stark's HYDRA hunt. Yet, when things seemed to take a turn for the worst, Spider-Woman would step up to turn the tables in the police's favor.

"Huh. Would ya look at that. Kid did alright for herself." Barnes mumbled as a small smile bloomed vaguely on his lips while eyeing the material hanging limp in Stark's arms.

His Brooklyn accent rarely ever slipped through, but Natasha found that only happened when he felt at ease or off guard; however, those moments were brief as he was quick to remember where he was, not to mention who he was standing next to, before composing himself. Natasha could not look away from him, still comparing him to the legend that struck fear into her cold heart to the man standing in front of her. Seeing those little vulnerable moments he would accidentally display in her presence was sometimes, as silly as it sounded, beyond her comprehension.

Barnes sounded proud. The admiration was clear on his bearded face. Weiss, whoever she was, left quite an impression on the _Winter Soldier_.

Then again, the red-head thought, there was going to be some worshiping involved considering Barnes was not under the control of his captors and was slowly learning to live the life as a man no longer shackled to his prison of words, pain, and ice.

There was hiccups of course: raiding kitchens somewhere in between too late and too early when sleep was not an option, not remembering where he was and who he was, overwhelmed by the sights and sounds and unknown and unfamiliar, and sometimes wondering if this was real or if he was lost in the program. But all the bad he had experienced was not going to last forever because slowly he was winning the good things that were going to help him in combating the horrors of his past self. His world didn't have to be about order and missions anymore, who's might was right was no longer his problem, and the closest to a cold prison he'll get was when he opened the freezer of Stark's large fancy fridge.

Barnes was going to see that his world could be so much bigger than he thought, he was going to see it by the way people were helping him, the way he was rebuilding his own identity, the way he was surrounding himself with people he felt he could trust, and he was going to find it would only get bigger from then on and afterwards.

All of that—because of one girl.

( _justlikethehawkthathadswoopeddownandcarriedyoufaraway_ )

"Okay, I know this is nice to look at but it's impracticable." Stark's one-sided commentary filled the whole room as he stared at the opening at the suit's white wrists. "Oh my God, please tell me this isn't super glue. _It is_. That's just _wrong_."

"Not everyone has expensive equipment to make nearly indestructible suits, Mr. Fashion Police." Natasha droned monotonously as she gathered the suit (and _Crocs_ ).

"I can make a better suit than this." Stark reckoned, but paused when he found himself in the receiving end of twin looks of disbelief. "What?"

"Just like that? You're going to give her an upgraded suit?" the red-head stared blankly at the genius.

Stark recently became incredibly protective of his tech and gear, never budging from the suggestions that his tools could help SHIELD agents, so it was a surprise to see how easily he was willing to supply a complete stranger equipment that costed millions of dollars.

"I said: _I can_. But now that I think about it, I might as well go ahead and do her a favor and make a better one than this. Seriously, the only special power this suit has is keeping her face hidden." Stark prattled incessantly. "But I gotta hand it to her in the design because, seriously, _wow_ , this color palette she's got going on gives me 80's retro vibes. I get nostalgic just from looking at it. I'm keeping this for the upgrade."

"She's an unknown, Stark." Natasha stressed out. "Just because she sent you a heads up doesn't necessarily make her someone you can automatically depend on to be on your side."

Until she actually met Weiss Booker face-to-face, Natasha was going to keep her guard up and reservations to herself. Coulson picked her to remain with Stark for a good reason. The red-head's words unfortunately made Barnes go on the defensive.

"You mean on _YOUR_ side." Barnes argued.

She met his challenging steel blue eyes. "I'm only keeping an open mind. How do you know she isn't leaking information to other dangerous organizations?"

"How do we know you're not part of _that_ organization?" Barnes shot back.

"We don't know her motives."

"We don't know yours either."

They were going in circles. Barnes obviously knew more than he was letting on when it came to the girl. He was the only person to have come in contact with Weiss. After all, he had been the one to identify her through the hair dye and make-up she currently sported (he'd done a double-take at the image and someone privately joked about the guy finally seeing a pretty face after a decades long of dry spell HYDRA forced on Barnes; a joke which no one appreciated). His utter silence on the girl made a small prickle of annoyance rise from Natasha because it brought more unnecessary obstacles in profiling the young woman.

But the problem was that Barnes and Stark did not trust her.

She only had her small knives on her, but other than that she was basically on her own with the two men who could easily overpower her. This show of faith on her part apparently wasn't enough to dampen their suspicions towards her. Back when the mission had been about evaluating Stark, Natasha assumed it was going to be much easier to manipulate the billionaire while he was emotionally and mentally compromised due to the palladium poisoning that threatened to kill him. Any chances of gaining Stark as another card to fall under the favor of SHIELD flew out the window the moment she found Barnes in the billionaire's company.

And now that she found out that SHIELD was definitely compromised, overwhelmed by enemies that were secretly surrounding them behind false camaraderie, she and her faction had to work overtime in order to get Tony Stark and James Barnes on their side.

Bozhe moi.

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"Again!"

The Asset watched in silence. A couple feet away the girl was on the ground, breathing heavily and bleeding just as much, but she didn't move to get up as the Instructor ordered her to.

"Get up, malyshka!" the Instructor demanded.

The Instructor was losing his patience with the girl.

With his keen hearing, he caught the sound of her sharp intake of breaths beyond the exhaustion, and he could also smell the salty tears flowing down her bloody and bruised face. She was always crying.

She cried for the police, she cried for her parents, she cried for her brother, and when no one answered her, she cried more and more. It only served to grate the ears of the prison guards that stood outside her cell that they had had enough and beaten her until she couldn't make a sound. She learned quickly from then on to keep quiet.

Their lessons were beginning to stick to her. That was a good sign.

The Instructor nodded sharply to him after he lost patience in waiting for the girl to get up by herself.

The Asset strode forward then grabbed a hold of her arm, flinging the girl up on her feet. She wheezed out a small and pathetic whimper, trying to curl inwards to avoid what was to come, but the Asset kept a strong hold of her.

Rearing his arm back, he began his assault. Had he not kept a hold on her, she would have easily crumpled to the ground. He continued his barrage of fists, punching her jaw, her collarbone, her nose, her forehead, watching more blood gush from the nostrils and through the teeth and saliva. He didn't blink or flinch as specks of her spit and blood landed on his face, he was long used to that. The soft skin against his meaty hand blossomed light black layered flowers across her pale skin. No matter how hard her punched her, her skull never caved in like it did normally with other people.

The sound of fist against flesh and her grunts of agony repeated like acoustics inside the encased space of the training room.

The Instructor finally ordered the Asset to cease.

Like a puppet with their strings cut, she collapsed when he released her from his tight grasp. She would heal, the Asset had observed, the bruises and swelling would fade away in a few short hours.

During the time she was lying unconscious in a holding cell, there was little to be said about how she would be dealt with. Disposing of her would ensure the safety of the base and all it's staff. And one of the leading scientists behind the operation expressed a great desire to plant a bullet between the girl's eyes himself since her appearance only served to remind him of their failure to produce promising results.

That plan didn't come to.

When the girl woke up she tried to leave. Guards reported how she demanded a phone to call her family, but the guards stationed there only went in to kill her.

They ended up flying across the room, crashing into walls and iron bars.

Witnesses and cameras caught the entire thing, and when the staff reviewed the tapes, they were astonished at how easily the young woman overpowered the group of full grown men who had towered over her short frame with little to no effort on her part.

HYDRA failed an experiment, but succeeded in procuring a new student.

They began the process by putting her in a new cell with no bed and the entire floor flooded with cold water to sap away her body's natural warmth. The food was limited to keep her fed by take away her control as HYDRA wanted to enforce their control on her. And by taking away her control, they would take away her will with their batons, tasers, fists, and heavy boots.

A week after, they began her routine visits to the medical labs to take away her body.

These were the basics of HYDRA's education.

Your control, your will, your body, it was theirs to claim and reshape to their liking.

The concrete hallways echoed with her screams.

The Doctors found her regenerative abilities fascination, reporting that it was far superior than that of the Asset's. Her cracked and broken bones would mend itself and return to its original state before they broke it again to record the time it took to heal; they broke it again to record how fast it would heal depending on the how bigger the injury was, and again and again for whatever purposes they needed to inquire.

Further studies were done with their scalpels, documenting the pain tolerance her body could withstand before blacking out. They injected drugs and small doses of poisoning to observe how well the body's immune system and metabolism could combat against it before increasing them, ignoring the way she screamed and flailed against her bindings in pain (it did more harm as she broke her own wrists and ankles from trying to escape).

"Get up!" the Instructor commanded.

She was back on her hands and knees, blood and saliva falling like strings from her open mouth as her head remained lowered to the concrete floor. Dressed in medical issued sweat shorts and sleeveless shirt which absorbed her sweat, clung on to her skinny frame as each week made her more smaller and feeble. It had been over a month since she was recruited, and the only progress the staff were making was of her body. Her dark hair was a tangled mess from being constantly grabbed at, her body grew much paler from her time underground without sunlight and from the freezing pool sessions, and her voice began to fade as the Asset could barely recall her vocal tones.

"Get _up_!"

Once again, she ignored the Instructor.

Unbuckling a baton from his holster strapped to his thigh, he flicked it out to extend the instrument before moving in to strike her a punishing blow. These sessions were to be taken seriously, anything less than perfect was always rewarded with pain to remind the students to do better.

The Instructor swung his arm down—only to have his wrist caught.

Unlike all the other times where she usually started to plead for mercy, or brace her body for the pain the was sure to come her way, she did not welcome the punishment that the Instructor had felt was needed to discipline her.

The Asset watched as the girl swung her leg out in a wide arc until it landed against the Instructor, shattering his kneecap backwards, all the while removing the baton from the stunned Instructor's grip. And before the Instructor knew what was happening, before the pain of his bones crumbling like porcelain being grinded into dust caught up to him, his face exploded from the blow of his own baton and the Asset could tell from that impact alone that the Instructor's jaw was broken.

All this happening in the span of three, nearly four, seconds.

The disfigured and crippled Instructor collapsed in a heap before bellowing out a horrific cry. His bones exposed, his teeth knocked out, and his jaw unhinged, he flailed his arms with his fingers clawing on the floor. His words muffled by the blood and his toothless gums flapping uselessly into garbled words that sounded an alien language altogether. The Asset stood by, staring down at the Instructor, waiting for further commands that he knew would not be coming from the man below anytime soon.

It would seem there was promise in the girl after all.

The girl and the Asset looked up when one of the heavily locked entrances of the training ground opened up so that a group of armed men and women flooded inside, all guns aimed at her. Baron von Strucker stepped in after them when they were completely surrounded. As the Baron came close, he was cleaning his single monocle before replacing it back to its rightful place at the side of his eye. His cold eyes stared straight towards the still Asset before flicking their attention on the silent girl. The Instructor was still on the floor, whimpering and wailing as he crawled on his belly towards the Baron's feet, fingers clutching at his superior's boots for aid.

The Baron merely let out a small sigh before he pulled a gun out of his holster and shot the Instructor's head. The crack of the trigger bounced around the room until it faded like a ringing in everyone's ears. The squirming and obnoxious crying was silenced for good, leaving the air stagnant between them all. The only thing left was the smell of gunsmoke.

The Baron returned the gun back to its holster, clipping the buckle then lettings his gloved hands fall behind the small of his back where they curled together. His boots gave a half twirl to move away from the puddle of blood beginning to surround the former Instructor's head, a slow and observant gait as the Baron walked carefully around the quiet and pale girl. She was aware of him, even as her eyes stared past the heads of the security guards while blood dipped at her bare feet, she was very much aware of the man circling her from behind.

"You've finally completed the first few steps of your trials," the Baron explained carefully to the girl. "It must have been terrible, and frightening, but it was necessary pain for you to learn from this."

There was no reply.

"But there is still very much for you to learn. Whether by accident or a twist of luck, you will be given a great purpose." Baron von Strucker paused at the girl's side, easily towering over her as he stared down at the top of her head. "You will be rewarded through your hard work. We thank you every day for giving your best to let go what shackles you and freely learn our ways."

No words to spare, no thanks to give, no breath to waste. Like stone, her lips remained unmoved.

"Would you like to wash up?" the Baron offered, his arm directed towards the entrance which was still open. Inviting.

A reward system; if one performed well in the eyes of the Barons, the participant would be rewarded with promises of warm showers, an extra pound of their meals, a cell with a bed and no flooded floors, and a single day without the guards to take her will.

She was like eternity, refusing to budge for the forces trying to move her like seasons to the change.

The Baron dropped his hand, his eyes cool and his mouth faintly turning downward. The girl was still refusing to see the lesson, she was still unwilling to participate with the lessons. The entrance was no longer available when the Baron turned to the other guards and gave a meaningful nod.

With their guns pushed down and away from their fronts to hang limp on the straps that wrapped around the guards, everyone moved to unbuckle the clasps of their straps on their thighs. They pulled out their batons, and extending them created a static which flickered dangerously with discharged humming and buzzing. The Asset was not overly fond of those tools, they reminded him too much of the Chair.

"I guess some students need to repeat their lessons until they finally let it sink in..." the Baron said, he turned towards the entrance and called over his shoulder, "Soldat!"

The Asset followed the Baron, the guards stepping aside as he remained without side-stepping. The girl could try to be unruly and stubborn to her teachers, she could tell herself that she knew better than them, but all the students before her thought the same. She was only going to lag behind from her lessons, and if she continued on with her pointless struggling, the punishment for her stubbornness was only going to bring—

"I can do this all day."

It was quiet, barely a breath of sound and words filtering through her mouth, but the Asset froze from taking another step after the Baron.

The Asset never stopped for anything outside of an order from a superior commanding officer, but somehow the muscles of his body clenched and his brain cut off all connections to allow him to move forward.

The Asset was hesitating.

The Baron noticed the lack of footsteps following behind him, and von Strucker called for the Asset's obedience. If he could, the Asset would follow, the Asset would do as was ordered, the Asset would never falter or hesitate, the Asset was—

He looked back.

Surrounded by a bunch of meatheads, a picture far too familiar for his liking. All big and strong and packing like a heavyweight boxing champion, ready to pummel the tiny stick-of-punk who had their own fists raised for a brawl. Punk knew they weren't gonna walk away from this fight unscathed, with the blood on their knuckles and the swollen eyes blinding 'em, but the punk wasn't gonna run away either. Try as hard as they might, hardest as they coulda, they were gonna fumble and get knocked down.

But still...! The punk wasn't gonna go down without swingin' their tiny fists. They weren't gonna roll over for any schmuck who thought they can bully 'em.

Just 'cause they wore a coat that threatened to swallow up their entire frame, or wear hand-me-down shoes that were a few sizes too big (gotta stuff 'em with newspapers), didn't make the punk lesser than anybody else the rest of the block. And it sure didn't give any fatheads the right to think they can just walk all over the punk.

( _whoisthat?_ )

The first meathead swung, heavy arm aimed for the strike from behind. There was a voice coming from somewhere, but he didn't pay it any mind, too busy watching with growing horror that the little punk was about to get another concussion. He knows how ugly those were, but so much worse against someone so small and weak. Blood covering the whole side of their head, the sink full of pink water from trying to wash it off from those thin blond locks.

He forced his body to move, he forced his body to reach for them.

( _whoareyou?_ )

The voice was muddled like he was under water, he couldn't make out the words, but he didn't care about that. None of that mattered to him right now because he had to stop this fight from breaking out. He had to grab that punk and take them home.

There was already blood on their shirt, the fabric looking like it was going to slide off their bony shoulders.

( _Iknowyou_ )

He never reached the punk; someone struck him from behind.

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Pepper was the one who called him.

Six hours later, he was flying from Washington D.C. to Malibu. On the course of the flight, various scenarios flew around Rhodey's mind, wondering just what sort of funk his best friend fell into that caused him to lock everyone out of his workshop and forbidden JARVIS to call out an SOS for his creator. Was Tony beating himself up for what happened back in New York with Pepper and Happy?

Shaken as everyone was after the incident, no one was thankfully hurt. The weirdo in the tights didn't seem to be aiming for harm, as the report Rhodey read stated, but had only dropped a tiny box in Pepper's hands before disappearing altogether. A box that had no bombs, chemicals, or live snakes (that had been quite a memorable surprise).

The police didn't have a chance to take their investigations any further because as soon as Tony swept in the room, he took everything and walked away (including a police sketch of the masked intruder).

And then everything went silent from the genius' end as he locked everything and everyone outside of his basement. Pepper's personal access code to enter had been revoked, and Rhodey was willing to guess that his was also no longer of use.

Whatever present that asshole in the mask left for Tony, Rhodey would bet it was the source of all the trouble.

When he arrived at the airport, Happy was already there waiting for him, and when he reached the Malibu mansion, Pepper was there to open the door and lead him inside. Climbing down the flight of stairs to the basement level of the workshop and garage, Rhodey paused when he saw the windowpanes were in blackout mode which prevented him from seeing what was going on inside. Worry began to gnaw itself up Rhodey's throat, and he had to take a few deep breaths as he knocked and called Tony's name, but ultimately getting no response.

"Tony?" Rhodey slapped against the tinted glass, growing more and more frustrated and anxious from the lack of witty replies Tony would have immediately thrown his way. "C'mon, man, let me in! You're scaring Pepper and Happy! You're scaring _me_! Open up and talk to me! Tony!"

He hissed when he slammed the bottom side of his fist against the glass panels.

"JARVIS! Tell me he's okay!" he demanded, but the AI was uncharacteristically silent.

What. In. The. _HELL_?

"Tony, I swear to God...!" Rhodey cursed as he pushed his access code, but just like he predicted, the door denied him entry. " _Motherfucker_!"

He paused from pulling away from the keypad of buttons before his thumb began to press on another set of familiar access code. To Rhodey's surprise, the door gave a small hiss signaling that it was open.

He and Pepper exchanged looks.

"Who's—?"

Rhodey swallowed heavily. "Stane's."

They both remained silent, refusing to further approach a taboo subject that still left salt on their open wounds. Rhodey pushed the door open and he stared at what lied ahead of him.

It was a mess.

Tools and compartments lying haphazardly on the floor, scattered messily like they've been shoved and kicked aside. Looking towards the garage, he saw several of the cars having horrible scratch marks, broken windows, and dented hides, all of it caused by a mangled-look crowbar that was sticking out of the hood of one of the cars. He looked around for any signs of the engineer, but stopped when he spotted DUM-E and U. The poor bots were hiding at the far corner of the workshop, giving pitiful chirps but staying where they were, afraid of the disaster that surrounded them.

Something about the entire scene pulled at his memories, but Rhodey pushed them away to forge on, searching for the missing genius.

The heavy smell of alcohol drifted in the air, and Rhodey followed the scent. The hesitant steps of crushed glass under high heels told him that Pepper was following close behind, determined to find their man.

"Tony!" Rhodey called, scanning the lab.

A small rustle from somewhere on the floor caught his attention, and Rhodey quickly passed through the aisles of work desks before his eyes locked on a body sitting on the floor, leaning against the back of a random workbench with an open bottle of scotch that was half empty.

Tony was an absolute wreck. He looked just like those horrible days where he was lost in the sensation of creative drugs and constant partying, spiraling more out of control until Rhodey and Pepper (and Stane) convinced him, pleaded him, to go to rehab. His eyes were bloodshot, his face pale and sickly, his body hunched to make him smaller, skin trembling like he had been stuck inside a freezer, and his hands bloody from where he had been crashing into things to destroy and tear apart until it was no longer recognized.

He and Pepper quickly joined his side. The ginger-haired woman took Tony's hands, her watery eyes looking at the damage carefully.

"He's so cold."

"Jesus, Tony," Rhodey slipped off his jacket to wrap around Tony's trembling shoulders. "What the hell?"

"JARVIS," Tony croaked, and Rhodey couldn't stop himself from flinching at hearing how torn and ripped his best friend's voice sounded to his ears.

Like he had been screaming non-stop for _hours_. How was Tony even conscious? He looked like he should be put in a hospital.

Several holoscreens appeared from thin air, hovering over them. After Pepper assured that she would not leave Tony all alone (never again), Rhodey stood and approached the closest screen.

"What am I looking at?" he asked after a moment, fingers flicking through the files only to be met with more. "What even is all this? Did you hack into something?"

Suddenly, Tony was laughing. It came low and quiet, and his shoulders shook even more while his head hung down that Pepper had to press her hands against his chest to keep him from falling forward. But then the cackling turned to wheezing, his small lungs (to make room for the _battery_ stuck in his chest) trying to inhale every breath as he reached his bloody hands for Pepper.

He wasn't laughing, Rhodey realized. Tony was crying.

Rhodey abandoned the holoscreens to join Tony on the floor, wrapping an arm around the other man. There was glass crunching from the other side and they saw Happy tentatively walking carefully around the lab.

"They did this to me..." Tony whispered, barely coherent enough to speak. "They've been doing this for years."

"Tones, c'mon," Rhodey waved at Happy to help him. "Let's get you to bed, man. You ain't looking so hot right now."

But then Tony was furiously clutching to Rhodey's arms, shaking him like he was trying to knock sense into Rhodey as his spat, "THEY LIED TO ME! THEY FUCKING _LIED TO ME_!"

"Tony!" Pepper shouted, startled as everyone was from the anger that ignited behind those vicious browns of Tony's.

"It wasn't an accident! It was never my father's—!" Tony babbled, still shaking Rhodey but his efforts quickly lost strengths as his emotions took a downward turn. " _They_ took them from me! _He_ took them! All this time, I thought...!"

Happy and Rhodey had to haul him through the broken mess of the lab and towards the bedroom where they had to help him into his bathroom. Soon as the guy got on his knees, he was puking away all the alcohol he had consumed. The whole thing was just messy. Pepper went to a different room because she couldn't handle seeing her boss like this. The girls he brought home, the questionable actions he made during board meetings, and the whole shutting down Stark Industries weapons business, all of that she could handle... but never _this_ , whatever this was.

The only thing she could do for Tony was call for an ambulance. They needed to get him to a hospital because Tony had been locked down inside his lab for hours, so they really had no way of knowing how much he had been drinking that it could lead to him having alcohol poisoning.

When they washed off the stink and puke and sweat and blood, Happy and Rhodey (both wet from the shower head since Tony no longer took baths after Afghanistan) carried their friend to lie in his bed. Towels and blankets wrapped around the unconscious man, Rhodey left them as the others promised to not leave Tony's side to return to the workshop.

DUM-E and U were already trying to clean up the mess, their actions slow and small that Rhodey was reminded of gloomy toddlers it made his head ache in pity. Stepping around the damaged path, Rhodey stopped at the workbench where the holoscreens were last seen. Whatever set Tony off, that made him say those things, that made his boy cry, Rhodey wanted to know and get to the bottom of it.

"Alright, J, show me what Tony's been looking into." Rhodey commanded.

Hours of exploring through the data never prepared Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes of what he was going to find waiting inside.

Familiar figures from within the Pentagon were leaking secret information to enemy countries; terrorist groups being supported by governments wanting to keep innocent citizens in line and under control with death threats and public executions; high ranking soldiers ordered to intentionally cause chaos and keep the fighting from ceasing; attempts of peace treaties and cease fires meet with assassinations; honest reporters and investigators killed under the ruse of accidents while yellow journalists and corrupt officials swept everything under the rug for money; shady politicians making their way to the top while their opponents faced fake scandals until they were forced to back down from the race; promising companies that wanted to do good constantly sabotaged from the inside to slow their path until they went bankrupt.

All this and more caused by one main group Rhodey had heard stories about like a ghost story told around the campfire in the darkest of nights where it felt like the encroaching black would come and swallow him whole should he stray from the fire's light.

The few times he visited Tony's old mansion when the Stark family resided in New York, the rare times he met Howard Stark, he was treated with stories that his best friend knew by heart since he could learn to walk.

Howard Stark told him about the war, about Captain America, about the Howling Commandos, about Peggy Carter and Colonel Chester Phillips of the SSR.

He also told Rhodey about HYDRA.

Howard described them as the worst of humanity had to offer; killing everyone and everything, including their own countrymen and Axis allies, capturing innocent citizens and prisoners of war to use for their own experiments. They were an infestation, a parasite, a blight to the world that needed to be burned down and eradicated from existence.

But still, a small sliver of that parasite survived it all.

Arnim Zola, chief scientist of HYDRA and right hand man of the Johan Schmidt, had been one of the selected scientists to transfer over to America during the course of Operation: Paperclip. HYDRA's ideology lived to see another day because of this. Taking control by creating chaos throughout the years, killing anyone and sabotaging anything in the name of the serpent society, growing so huge that it was hidden right before everyone's eyes. Rhodey had never felt so shaken to the core, horrified that this was living all around him, that his enemies were everywhere, even in his own military branch.

He recognized several names he knew that were listed as members of the damn organization. People he had shaken hands with at ceremonies, men and women who covered for him and watched his six when things got rough on the field, friends whom he had gotten acquainted with during family barbecues: all snakes with forked tongues.

He stopped at one file. It was separated from the rest on the screen, and Rhodey's finger hovered over it as he read the title.

 ** _12/16/91_**

He was exhausted, emotionally and mentally dying from reading only a portion of what was found inside. This was damning evidence that everything everyone had ever known was all a lie, and something told Rhodey that if he opened this... he didn't think he was going to walk away from this as the same man who entered.

He opened the lone file.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

The video had sound, and Rhodey heard Maria's cries for Howard echo around the lab until they rang inside his head for hours afterwards.

( _andwhenyouclosedyoureyesallyousawwasamachinewithafamiliarfacesilencinghervoiceforgood_ )


	3. The Fury

Ugh, that shit Pai face running the FCC is going to officially shut down Net Neutrality on the 23rd of April. Dammit people, we better enjoy this fanfic stuff before we're run out and forced to pay more than what we already do to get here. I swear, next thing I know my dad is probably going to tell me to pay for my own internet service to get here on this site, but with my already lousy paychecks, I'll only have a blue screen of death staring back at me. If any of you love the internet as much as I do, make some noise to the assholes in FCC/Congress that we want Net Neutrality back!

Anyway, backing out of the political crap shitting down on our plates this year (oh look, World War III is knocking on our door. Mr. President, wanna get that?).

Oh. My. GOD!

INFINITY WAR IS UPON US! THANOS, THE PURPLE MENACE, IS CLOSING IN ON EARTH!

I'm so freaking hyped! First it was **BLACK PANTHER** which was badass/beautiful/bawling my eyes out, now we have the purple menace swaggering up in the scene like, "what up, I got a big cock!" and everyone's just screaming themselves hoarse because "who the fuck is gonna die?!" and I'm so not prepared for that! I don't think any of you are prepared for this! I AM NOT READY!

Ahem, here's another chapter for you guys, sorry that it's short. I know it's been like a long ass time since you've waited, but ya'll are probably gonna end up waiting some more no thanks to those shitty ISP's who want to control whatever the hell we get into to make more money and control the masses of what content they depend on for news from the outside world (sorry, my political side is salty as hell).

 **Disclaimer:** MCU belongs to Disney and Marvel Studios/Comics, I only claim ownership over my Original Character(s) and a little bit of the plot!

 **Warning:** Language, Violence, Adult Content, possible Triggers (there will be heads-up for these things), and whatever comes to mind.

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 **ഢҼb oҒ أӣҭԻأᏩմҼ**

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 _"Are you kidding me?!"_

Tony didn't have to look to know he was being watched by the murder twins not two feet away from where he was standing. There was no use in subtlety if there was practically nothing they could occupy themselves with to pretend they weren't listening in, so that left them to watch the proceedings of his and Rhodey's conversation without shame.

"Any louder, honey-bear?" Tony said as he glared over his shoulder at the others.

All he got was a raised eyebrow from one and a blank look from the other. They could at least pretend to walk into another room despite the walls being thin; that would have been the polite thing to do.

 _'Nosy ass spies.'_

 _"Unbelievable. After everything, you're going to help SHIELD bring the girl in? Tony, whatever sweet deal they gave you, ignore it. They ain't worth it."_ Rhodey glowered from the other side of the line and Tony was grateful they were a couple of states away from each other. Rhodey literally growling at him sent shivers, and not the sexy kind.

"I'm not helping anyone bring the girl in." Tony snapped, glaring at the ugly wallpaper. "I'm here to make sure that SHIELD doesn't walk away with the girl in tow and that they don't slip up in alerting our presence to Third Reich 2.8."

Rhodey went quiet and he felt sharp eyes on the back of his head.

"Not for the lack of trying, I can't really do much against them." Tony's eyes roved over to Romanoff once more.

As much as he wanted to believe that he had the upper hand, he didn't. Fury was aware of the thin ice he found himself standing on, the gravity of the situation threatening to break beneath him and send his faction in the icy depths with no hopes of crawling out alive. Because just as Tony had leverage over Fury and his minions, they had as much power over Stark Industries and himself. This put them all in an awkward place where their hands were on the wheel but neither of them trusted the other not crash the entire car (Oh, Jesus, bad analogy to think of with Barnes standing right there.), but there really was no way out of this... not without tipping the scales dangerously.

If Tony threatened do something towards Fury, he had no doubt that the one-eyed bastard would pull some stunt which exposed everyone to the neo-Nazis and put everybody else in jeopardy. Tony would not take that risk.

In short summary: they were as a lose-lose situation where HYDRA would come out the winner if he and Fury didn't play nice with each other. Rhodey's brief disappearance from the line told Tony that the other man was probably cursing something vicious about the tough spot they landed in (a shady cyclops and a death star, dark siths and all).

 _"Because these assclowns are apparently in the same boat as us,"_ everyone could practically hear the seething rage dripping off of Rhodey's voice. _"Right. How pretty damn convenient of them."_

"Hey, I don't like this any more than you do. They're a shady bunch; but if it helps you sleep at night, I've already crossed out a handful from the suspect's list."

 _"... Just look after yourself, Tones. You're not their personal janitor they should turn to when things get messy."_

"Yeah, I wouldn't look too hot in a custodian's uniform anyway." Tony smiled.

It was like making another big gamble again; Romanoff was pretty much like Freezer Burn, so much red on her ledger that weighed as much her work with SHIELD that he had no idea whether to put his chips on the bet that she was on their side of the spectrum. Yet, for all everyone knew, she could possibly string him and the others along under the false pretense of working for the same goal. She had nearly wormed her way into his good graces once when he had hired her as his new PA to replace Pepper until Barnes sniffed her out into exposure.

Tony knew it was only a matter of time until she tried again.

 _"Put my boy Bucky on the line, Tones."_

Heeding the request, Tony pulled off his earpiece and tossed the tiny device towards the other man. Barnes easily caught the device with a single hand and pulled it over his ear to make his own conversation with his new pal of the 21st Century.

( _hadn'thetakenenoughfromyou?_ )

He turned away.

Aside from the hidden bag containing the costume, the apartment was empty of weapons (unless kitchen knives were counted as secret weapons).

Tony seated himself on the sofa, letting Barnes and Romanoff do their own thing while he checked things over at SI. So far, Pepper was handling the entire investigation the company was going under. He knew it was risky business when he started this whole inquisition against basically the entire world, but like hell he was going to stand by and let it continue. So much was messed up because of this ignorance that kept majority of the population blind, HYDRA shaping and bending history towards a tipping point that there was no climbing back up from it should the world fall. Thanks to the person who delivered this, he was going to use this information and knock it all down within a span of a few short years.

He blinked when the sound of footsteps closed in on his spot, and he glanced upwards to find Barnes, who had finished up his own small talk with Rhodey, walking around the sofa to take a spot on a reclining chair from across him. Those eyes, despite having cataloged everything in the last twenty minutes, never seemed to get tired of looking around like a little kid making their first trip to Disney World.

Tony supposed it beat having to catch Barnes staring at nothing for hours (or a whole day), making the genius squirm at how dead those eyes of his seemed. It was like looking at a plate of a whole fish, its charred eye staring back at him as he cut into it to take the meat. Glazed and endless. It was a good thing Rhodey and the others were able to keep the Soviet killbot occupied with a list of pop culture movies everyone recommended, books to read on both paperback and from a tablet, or sometimes even explore outside the Malibu mansion to the California streets (away from the population, of course).

JARVIS kept him updated of Barnes' progress with Pepper occasionally pitching in after a meeting with the doctors.

Nobody thankfully forced any interactions between him and Barnes. Even logically knowing what the poor bastard went through, HYDRA turning him into something less human and more machine-like, it still did not make it easier for Tony to separate the man's face from the killer he watched on the black and white CCTV screen. The others would ask every now and then if he would like to join them when they went to see Barnes, but Tony always declined their offers and nobody forced the issue again. The only few instances where Tony found himself in the same room as Barnes was when there was a new breakthrough for the ex-assassin's mental recovery, a medical check up where his presence was required, or when there was a visit to his workshop that had something to do with the multiple issues Barnes' metal arm had (a technological marvel that might have once intrigued the engineer but now only served as an ugly reminder of the many lives it had stolen).

It didn't help that those bastards who forced their HYDRA-issued diabolical arm couldn't be removed, much to Tony's grief. He wanted that damn arm off so he could destroy it and throw the remains into the deepest and darkest parts of the ocean, never to resurface in the light of day again. It was integrated dangerously into Barnes' spine that removing the entire thing would be risky, even for a super soldier. The doctors couldn't do anything to help their patient who experienced bouts of pain flaring from the wires connected to his nervous system (one doctor suggested this had been done on purpose to keep Barnes compliant and dependent on the medical team who was placed in charge of him). The only relief Tony could offer was switching the thing off occasionally, but that was only a temporary band-aid.

"What happens after we take her?"

It took an admittedly embarrassing few long seconds for Tony to realize that Barnes was talking to him, the only person within the vicinity of the question while Romanoff was off snooping inside the girl's closet and drawers.

"Well, our biggest priority is to make sure that she's taken under _our_ protection, none of that Men in Black bullshit that cyclop's got going for him. Fury can't hope to keep our whistleblower alive under his custody." Tony explained.

"And then?" Barnes persisted.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Tony responded firmly.

Truthfully, Tony wasn't sure about what scenario would play out when the young woman returned to her apartment.

The Weiss girl could see the entire thing as a trap. Whatever trust, however small, she had in giving Tony the truth about everything and everyone around him could easily evaporate the moment she saw them. It didn't help that he brought along one of her former jailers, the very one who had beaten and terrorized her throughout the time she served as HYDRA's prisoner before her escape.

But then, why else would she have helped him escape? She could have saved herself, yet she dragged the Winter Soldier until leaving him to his own devices while she made a run for it.

"She was really lucky." Barnes had said once, eyes always distant whenever he spoke of her. "It's like those one-in-a-million chances when someone wins a lottery or gets struck by lightning. Nobody expected her to pull it off. To actually escape HYDRA."

This was an organization that thrived inside the darkness whereas only SHIELD edged along the shadows to keep an eye on the rest of the world, oblivious to what was hiding deeper inside. The security was air tight and there could have been no way, no possibility, that she could have escaped without being some mind-controlling psychic to trick her guards and break her way out—but that wasn't what happened.

It was an escape that made Steve McQueen's character in "The Great Escape" fall utterly short.

What happened, according to Barnes, was something he never saw coming (once the memories were carefully recollected through intense sessions of hypnotherapy).

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 **B**

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The Asset recognized he suffered a lapse of judgement.

He recognized that after spending a few hours in the Chair, reminding him that there was no room for error. They were beginning to wonder if they should put him back in the ice if this continued, but they needed him to push their newest student.

But the pain made him thrash wildly, made the leathers wrapped around his arms, chest, and legs strain when he felt every bolt run through him. His teeth threatened to crush the mouth guard they stuck in his mouth, barely muffling his screams as the electrical surge tossed him around in the throes of agony. He was stuck between feeling numb and then feeling all too much, like someone was raising and lowering the volume of his pain tolerance.

And then—there came the words.

"желание"

Something like a primal instinct coming from deep inside the shards of frost was honing in on a long forgotten map to someplace he knew not. It made his feet want to travel wherever it would take him, his hands reach for what escaped through his fingers. It was there, whatever it was, he had to simply go and find it. But the Chair made him stop, made him lose the nerve to move, and unable to remember that sense of _longing_.

"ржaвый"

He was tired. He was always tired. Exhausted even after he woke from the cold chambers of his cryotube, but they needed him to keep going and to keep working for them. If he stopped, then he would go to waste; a weapon left to _rust_ was a weapon no longer of use. The Asset would not go to waste.

"Семнадцать"

Maybe it was how many times he succeeded, how many times he failed, how many times he learned, there was something about it that made him think of _seventeen_ lit candles and wishes, his tongue vaguely recalling the taste of something sweet beyond the blood and plastic stuck between his teeth.

"Рассвет"

It was a new day on the horizon, a new era that needed to be reshaped, a direction averted of the path is strayed from. The world was a dark place, the Asset was told, and so he must move in the shadows to do what could not be brought in the light, so that when the _day broke_ there would be a new tomorrow for them to strive towards.

"Печь"

Heat was a luxury. Heat had been absent most of his time here, or wherever he was with a new face and name to follow after his last handler had been taken by age. They left him to thaw, to slowly chip away the winter, frost, and cold fog that clung onto him, and even then it followed his footsteps. No, there was no heat to be found with the Asset. He was too cold, he _burned_.

"Девять"

Another number, another meaning unknown; a cat that's spent all _nine_ of it's lives, too many chances and dances with death. He's lived longer than a cat, stagnant like still water forced to a halt, and a tiny voice (screaming) tells him that's not normal. The voices stops where the electricity starts.

"добросердечный"

The Asset was not stable. His strength was too much, the bones giving away beneath his grip, and bruises formed too easily when his fingers pressed hard enough. It was allowed most of the time, but what was not tolerated was when he retreated from the punishment. The Chair made him learn to mind his manners, to be kind, to be _benign_.

"возвращение на родину"

Another victory one through force and effort, another reward securing him a painless day where he would be put away to sleep. Into the machines, into the darkness, the fog of winter whispering him to shut his eyes. This must be what the Asset was sure felt like coming _home_ after being away for so long.

"Один"

The Asset would be the weapon to end all wars. He would be the guillotine to execute any and all who stood in the way towards the path of true freedom from the world of chaos. The Asset was the _one_ and nobody else.

"грузовой вагон"

( _endoftheline_ )

The thrashing, the quaking, the trembling, and then the twitching before it fell into complete stillness. Like a statue carved from the glaciers that constantly surrounded him, he looked ahead for the way to go was only forward for everyone. His erratic heart was forcefully put under control through measuring breaths of calm, the visual focus that blurred the world together from the pain shifting back into composure. All eyes watching the Asset.

Like a good student, he sat docile and cool. Manners beaten into him until it became second hand nature for him to act as was expected of him when he stepped a toe out of line, and everyone looked appeased from this.

They take him out of the Chair.

Being led out through the doors, more like hauling his heavy frame while his feet was dragging behind him, the Asset closed his eyes to rest for a brief moment. They would take him back to the armory where he would be suited up and prepared for the next training courses to hasten his progress to memorize the progress he made. They were walking through the prison blockade, the Asset observed as he took in the empty cells beyond the enforced bars.

The Asset does not recall if he had been in one of those some time ago. He was better off not remembering it, it was easier that way.

There was a girl in one of the cells.

The new student; the one they needed him to guide.

He hadn't been anyone's teacher in a long while, but if they were ordering it then he was obligated to do as was instructed. She wasn't screaming or crying, they've already taught her to silence her cries; she wasn't trembling like a leaf in the cell which meant she was becoming accustomed to their comings and goings. But the fact that she was still stuck inside a cell full of cold water also told him that she was a difficult student that refused to adhere to the lessons from whatever teacher was left in charge of her education.

All the while he was analyzing her, from her malnourished-looking face to her deathly pale skin, she was watching him.

Vague as it was, he could recall how most would regard the Asset. A majority looked at him in fear, his fellow peers looked at him with awe and respect (glad that they weren't on the other side of his guns and knives), his handlers watched him with satisfaction after every successful mission, and his superiors gazed at him with pride at his work in helping shaping the world to their perfect image.

The girl—

She was looking at him with sadness.

She was looking at him like he was the one who was locked behind bars, like he was the one suffering in the cold water that sapped his body's natural heat, like he was the one that was not being fed enough food and water, like he was the one that was suffering the most. The Asset didn't understand much, he was only good for predicting reactions when he was at work to create skirmishes between two parties that were on the brink of a fight, but this... he was lost on things like these. Was she not suppose to be scared? Fear meant learning, being beaten was being corrected of a mistake, so why was she looking at him like that? He was a better soldier, a better weapon; the Asset was better than _her_.

Her lips were moving.

It was soundless. He stared at her, trying to make out the words her mouth was shaping, but he was already too far away from the girl.

It didn't matter. He'd see her again real soon after he was ready. They'd take her out of the cell from the prison block, put her in a room with him to resume where they left off before his relapse. He was going to push her, and if he had to, he'd beat her until her teeth were knocked inside her throat and her nose was crushed by his metal fist. She'll be in pain for days even with her superior healing factor, but this will help her in the end to fall in line with the rest of the students.

For now, though, for now...

The Asset wanted to rest his eyes for a few minutes.

His throat was still sore from screaming that he was sure the girl heard his voice carry out down the halls of the prison cell block.

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"You need to _stop_."

Tony ignored him.

"You can't—" Rhodey inhaled sharply through his flared nostrils, trying to reign it all back in. "You need to be _careful_ , man. These assholes have eyes and ears everywhere, we need to play it cool and keep our heads down. You trying to stir things up isn't going to help anyone."

The bastards had taken so much from him. They had taken his parents from him, isolated him from the rest of the old Howlies and their respective families, and subtly guided Tony towards the playboy lifestyle full of debauchery that no one would be surprised if the heir of Stark Industries died one day from an overdose. Tony was only ever glad that Rhodey had been there to pull him back from the edge of the cliff, but his chills returned to full force when he saw a few reports where some wondered if they should eliminate Rhodey to get Tony to lose control of his life again.

" _No_." Tony snarled over his shoulders, enraged eyes glaring back towards Rhodey. "I'm not going to sit down with thumbs up my ass while this is going on!"

He flicked a holoscreen up in a nearby workbench before Rhodey could put in another word, JARVIS pulling up a list of names with pictures to go along with.

"Do see that? Do these people look familiar?" he nodded at the screen. "Those are _Stark Industries_ employees! I have fucking HYDRA Nazi's hiding inside my company, looking over every shoulder to gather everything to send back to their hive! _Jesus Christ_ , Rhodey! They've been stealing so much shit from me, I wouldn't be surprised if they're already working on recreating the arc reactor!"

"You fire them and they'll know!"

" _I know_!" Tony slammed a fist on the table, rattling the contents on the surface.

The elder of the two men lowered his head, biting his bottom lips from how shaken he felt from the overload of information thrust upon their hands. It was the weakest he had ever felt in his entire life, so weak in fact that he almost wished he never stumbled across this horrid truth. He wanted to pretend a little longer to be oblivious to the truth, but Jim Rhodes knew better than to turn his cheek the other way when it really mattered.

The pilot could still picture the way Howard's face easily caved in from a single punch. He laid awake so many nights, the ugly video creeping in at the darkest hours as he stared up at his ceiling with blank eyes that held terrible images. And Tony knew his best friend had trouble sleeping because there was shadows under his own eyes as well, but rather than lay awake in bed, he settled for combing through the files to get them organized and create a list.

A hit list, so to speak.

"Tony," the other man softly murmured.

Their eyes connected, both tired and angry.

"I almost lost you. _Twice_. Don't make the third time a charm." Rhodey pleaded.

He was right, Tony exhaled heavily as he slumped down on a nearby stool like a machine finally giving out after overworking itself into exhaustion, he couldn't go in guns blazing. As tempting as it was to let the skeletons fall out of closet, to grind and crush these filthy snakes and mount their defeat on a wall to gloat about when he walked by, they would sooner react before anybody could assemble themselves.

Given their fantastic history in destroying anything and anyone who was in close range before they died, Tony didn't want to risk any innocent lives that were caught in the middle of it all.

There was also innocent agents to consider. He exempted those guys from his hit list, people with a somewhat "clean" record before they retired, others that were deep undercover, and some who were under protection with their families. If Tony had unleashed all these damning files into the internet, the whole thing could exploded in a lot of peoples faces.

Families slaughtered, retirees targeted, undercover agents exposed and instantly annihilated on the spot without warning, and other fellow agents not part of HYDRA caught unawares that it would all end it a bloody mess to clean up after. HYDRA would die slowly, and it was going to infect everyone they could spread their poisonous disease with before it was burned to the ground. It would take so long to destroy every base completely, dismantle their infrastructure from within the countless governments, branches, departments, and organizations it infiltrated throughout the years.

But, Tony looked up at the holoscreens, with a lot of discreet maneuvering and restrained patience... HYDRA could be destroyed within a few short years.

As much as it pained him to, he had to slowly cut off the diseased and rotten parts of the spoiled open wound before he could close it completely. It was going to sting, it was going to freaking hurt like a bitch, but with time and effort, they were going to severe the head of the parasite for good.

"We have all the information we need," his best friend walked up to one holoscreen. "We do this right, they'll be the ones wishing they hadn't started this shit in the first place."

"Alright." Tony acquiesced. "Let's do this."

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Months later, after he transferred a few employees to other departments that didn't have enough things to be taken to interest with HYDRA, had taken the "asshole boss" persona, threatened to fire a few with false accusations of incompetence in their work stations, and generally making every neo-Nazi agent in his company feeling absolutely miserable with the help of JARVIS, Rhodey, Pepper, Happy, and several of his most loyal workers he screened and personally hand-picked, something made itself known in his radar.

An alert come one evening from JARVIS while he was sharing a pizza slice or two with Happy. Thinking nothing of it, he pulled up his phone and looked at the screen.

There was a stranger standing in front of a doorway, the video coming live from one of JARVIS' hidden cameras.

A doorway that looked eerily familiar to Tony that he had to zoom out and see where he could place it.

...

His old house.

His parents' house. The giant mansion in Manhattan that he left behind after mom and dad had went and—he inhaled sharply, forgetting his surroundings and zeroing in on the stranger that was still standing there and staring at the doorway of his family's home.

( _murderingpieceoffilthkillitkillitkillit **KILLIT**!)_

"Boss?" Happy sat up, alarmed at Tony's sudden change.

"J, ready the suit!" Tony called out to the house, already on the way to the basement where he kept his suits.

 _"Sir, if I may—"_

"No, JARVIS, you may fucking not."


	4. A Name, A Face

These chapters are updated at random and they either come out short (or short _er_ ), but I'm happy to say that we are getting closer to the sequel of "ACASW". Since you guys are such avid readers, with your encouragement and small bits of criticism, I'm gonna throw you a bone here. I think when I previously posted "Web of Intrigue", people were confused on where to look to until after I added an extra chapter in the previous story to give them the right directions. Anyway, here's the sequel title of "ACASW":

"Ariadne's Web"

I already got somebody to do the cover art for me and it's gorgeous! When the next story gets posted up, find a picture of Spider-Gwen and you'll be good to go. Man oh man, I'm so excited! I'm pretty sure the next chapter will be the last one, for this side series at least, before we get it on back to our main girl's journey into the MCU, making waves while trying not to crap her pants. "Web of Intrigue" will continue on, in case you're wondering, to tell other tales that I think will have been glossed over in the future installment of this series. Oh? Think you misheard me? Oh no, you heard right: "Future installments".

I won't get into too much details, but let's just call it that one thing where you look at this story and wonder... "What if?"

;p

 **Disclaimer:** MCU belongs to Disney and Marvel Studios/Comics, I only claim ownership over my Original Character(s) and a little bit of the plot!

 **Warning:** Language, Violence, Adult Content, possible Triggers (there will be heads-up for these things), and whatever comes to mind.

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The lights were flicked off.

...

"I'm in a healthy relationship with Pepper Potts. You remember her, right? Tall? Strawberry blond? Killer high heels she will literally use to stab anyone to death with—?"

Instead of standing there and listening to Stark babble on about him pining for his CEO girlfriend, Natasha cuts right in with a statement that she knew would get everyone's attention like snapping fingers in a quiet room.

"She's coming in." she looked at her phone, the message from Coulson giving her and the others a heads up. "Don't wanna scare her off."

"I can already see her running for the hills. Seriously? Is this a rescue operation or an interrogation?" Barnes muttered, scowling at her. "I'm not gonna sit around in the dark like some creep. Turn on a lamp or something."

As an agent who's variety of specialties included stealth, this tactic shouldn't have voiced any complaints from the Winter Soldier. Though, given who they were about to meet, she could see why he wasn't so keen on pulling this song and dance on the girl.

"Is this the first thing they teach you in super spy academy?" Tony wondered out loud, his sarcastic self not wanting to miss an opportunity to throw more japes. "First lesson: if you want to extract a mark, make them shit their pants first."

All she did was give the two a look that said she was not impressed with their unwelcome snide commentary. The never ending sass and shade they kept throwing at her (she was SHIELD's poster child in their eyes) was nothing but a nuisance, yet at least they were more tame compared to the other people she had worked previously before. It still would have been reassuring if she had brought Clint with her, he would have dished out as much as those two grouch's were throwing at her. Coulson unfortunately thought that three people was already pushing the limit in their first ever contact with Weiss.

If all their speculation and theories were correct, Stark was deemed with highest probability that Iron Man and Spider-Woman would come to some sort of shaky truce. Barnes was still an ambiguous case, leaving a lot of people with doubts whether his presence would be welcomed, but the Winter Soldier was pretty persistent in proving everyone wrong about their presumptions. Natasha, however, was an entirely new element that would take the girl off guard.

Natasha was representing SHIELD, and she needed to be there to see if the girl was the real deal. She had already gotten her hands more dirty after being sent on several operations in taking out former colleagues, had captured few alive and "interrogated" them for more information on the whereabouts of the next cell that needed to be wiped clean off the slate while it was all reported as terrorist attacks in the reports to the higher ups.

Already there was a buzz of tension going on in their network, people looking over their shoulders and eyes ever watchful of their peers' movements. Sometimes she felt the hair on her arms rise when she stood inside an elevator, agents pressing themselves against the surface of the walls as they never wanted to be caught with their backs open in case of an unseen attack from the people they were working with. Natasha could not count how many times she saw the faces of people she walked past in hallways, shared a lunch table with, or sometimes worked with when Clint was not available—her previous training the Red Room prepared her for this. She killed others like her to survive.

She still remembered the way Coulson stared at the list and faces of the marked agents they had taken out, pausing over some he had been watching grow into remarkable people until their lives were forcefully cut down by his hand.

Clint had been paranoid and shaken at the slightest possibility that someone would catch on to his monthly disappearance to the _safehouse_. He wasn't the only agent.

The people from the hallways, lunch tables, and assignments were all familiar faces she would remember ahead of times, but between them and her, at least she and the people who mattered weren't going to end up six feet under.

If there was the smallest hint that everything they were led to believe about the girl was false, Natasha would not hesitate to pull out one of her knives and stick it in the girl's face. Sure, the information they gathered was true enough, but this all could have been a ploy from the beginning to gain everyone's trust and then strike them when they least expected it.

Self preservation was the goal, but it was also Clint and his family that was in danger, so Natasha would gladly continue with the bloody operations to take out any and all danger that posed against herself and her own people. If she could do it back in the Red Room, she could do it again in SHIELD.

For now, she'd endure the sassing and shading.

It was like a cloak of silence passed over them, all three falling quiet as they waited for the owner of the apartment to come. Natasha forced herself to keep calm, her experience easily masking the twitch and drowning out the adrenaline that threatened to rush up when her mark was coming up the stairwell. It was like her senses suddenly heightened to the point where she could hear high heels tapping against the hard concrete floor, drawing closer and closer.

The door from the apartment's entrance gave a jiggle; they could hear the tiny keys jingling from where they waited in the living area because how still and quiet all three of them became. And then the door opened.

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Something was different.

The Asset watched the girl cough up the last bits of vomit to the floor, taking in her deathly pale complexion and the scrawny limbs that she called her arms trembling like quaking leaves in the wind. The girl looked close to losing her strength and falling face-first in the messy puddle, too weak from the series of attacks thrown at her by the Asset to give a good fight. She was starved and cold, it was only a matter of time, but...

She was still stubborn, acting like a child throwing a tantrum when she didn't want to follow through with her guardian's rules. Failing every lesson thrown at her by the Asset and her other Instructors. She was becoming a disappointment, a student who performed poorly for her teachers for the lack of trying, and the Asset could see the shift in the superiors that were watching the proceedings with dark looks and deep frowns on their faces.

They were going to have to pull out _other_ means soon if she didn't comply to her teachers. Other means that made her wish she was dead than she was alive, that she would scream and cry and beg before fading away inside herself.

Yet despite all that was going on around them, there was some _thing_ that nagged at the back of his head. Watching her, fighting her, teaching her, beating her, the Asset felt a change of pattern as their sessions continued. Day after day, he saw the way the girl was looking around her surroundings, the way she was looking at the soldiers, Instructors, the Doctors that watched them from the observatory above, and the Baron. Before, she was too afraid to look at anyone in the eye, or sometimes she would make her eyes see past whatever body was standing in front of her, but now...

She was looking at the Asset, past the pain and swollen eyes and bruises and broken bones, she was giving him a look that made him feel a small sense of alarm.

There was something going on. A growing threat that he wanted to report, to take care of with a swift and clean slice of the throat with his knife or a quick draw of his handgun in between her eyes. There was no proof of whatever danger she was about to impose, she would remain locked away in the bunker for an indefinite period until the Baron deemed that she would be taken out (unlikely anytime soon), there was also multiple hallways she couldn't navigate without the clearance of a staff member, not to mention the security guards that were armed to keep her from making a run for it.

Whatever escape plan she had, it would end in failure.

( _youwouldknow_ )

It still didn't erase the foreboding sense that there was a shift of balance. Their might, their sense of power over her, her fear, it was gradually diminishing from her eyes as the days went by. Her eyes that were wide and pleading grew darker as they stared at all the things and people she watched in silence.

The Asset finally gave in his paranoia and ordered for more security to be stationed around in the training halls and outside her cell.

That did nothing to deter her. Perhaps another tactic needed to be used to enforce the idea that any dreams of being free was futile. The Asset was taught to be a realist, idealism had no place where he and the girl stood. Their power was for the men who stood on top, to keep it to themselves was being stupidly selfish. The Asset was not merciful, but this was the only bit of kindness she would get from him: whimsical and weak beliefs like the girl's were meant to be crushed and overpowered by people like HYDRA, the sooner she learned, the better off she would be.

She slammed against the concrete wall behind her, collapsing in a small heap on the floor.

The Asset didn't give her time to recover; the Instructors did not want him to go easy on her today.

She snapped her head up, raising it high enough that his heavy boot missed her head completely. He moved to kick upwards but her hands were already on his legs, causing the move to push her up on her feet thanks to the momentum he unintentionally provided for her. She was getting a little better, still clumsy to fight back with her fists but moving fast enough to evade several blows and kicks. He swung a fist at her, but that too was caught.

He expected that. In an easy move, he used the same arm she captured to yank her towards him and flip her around until she had her back to his chest. His metal arm came immediately around her throat, squeezing it hard enough to close the air from going and out of her lungs. A gargled noise escaped the girl, struggling to shake him off her back but he had lifted her off the floor, so all she could really do was dangle like a wet rag. She kicked her legs uselessly, but that didn't help any with her situation.

What he didn't expect was to lose control.

Her flailing and kicking around ceased and instead rose in a steady move that when she swung her legs back down, creating a momentum that came thanks to the help of her super strength, she forced the Asset forward that he flipped over until he landed violently on his back. His shock made him briefly lose concentration which led to him losing his grip on the girl who had already hauled herself up and turned on him.

He fought back, trying to gain back control, but she wasn't giving him any room to strike her. They rolled around on the floor until she ended up behind him while lying on her back against the cold concrete floor, her arms and legs tightly secured around his torso to prevent him from making any attacks against her.

From above, the Baron appeared pleased with the sudden turnaround. So impressed he was that he gave a small applause for the impressive display the girl managed to achieve in finally subduing her opponent. She still needed work to fight back, but this was better than no improvement at all.

But she didn't care about impressing anyone.

No, she was too immersed with keeping a tight grip on the Asset, drawing her face closer until he could feel her shallow breath tingling against the outside shell of his ear. She wanted to say something to the Asset, probably wanted to express herself for the first time since they were both too busy having one-sided fights against one another to have conversations. Did she want him to cry? Did she want him to beg for mercy? Did she want him to reenact the way she had when she was first brought into the training rooms? Did she want him to apologize of all the hurt he caused her, and helped when he was ordered to?

What she said was _world shattering_.

 _"Longing"_

It came quietly, not how it was usually announced so loudly that the words bounced around the room to continue ringing inside his skull afterward for hours. Her voice which quaked with fear and meekness came at him like a knife, forcefully cutting into the deepest parts of himself like how a scalpel would with a body, and her arms and legs were like the leather bindings which kept him from escaping that cold metal slab table.

 _"Rusted"_

The Asset felt the sense of panic, the loss of control of the situation, the balance she was threatening to shift. His struggling renewed, arching his back to crawl over until he was on his feet so he could slam himself into a nearby wall if only to silence her. He needed to get her off.

 _"Seventeen"_

The other soldiers were beginning to stare, no longer in curiosity but with suspicion. He opened his mouth, ready to yell out orders but the girl was more quick. With one hand kept on his arms in a solid grip, his mouth was forcefully clamped shut, preventing the Asset to call for aid.

 _"Daybreak"_

He tried to shake his head, shake her hand off his jaw, but she only pushed his head backwards until it was resting against her shoulder. Forced into the locked hold, her voice remained with clear intentions that she was going to finish this before anyone had the chance.

 _"Furnace"_

They finally began to notice something was wrong, the way he was trembling violently like he was still experiencing spasms from his time on the Chair. The girl was too close to the Asset, doing something that was causing their Soldier to react such a way.

 _"Nine"_

The Baron barked an order from above, the Asset could barely understand it he was too busy trying, and failing, to block out the voice that whispered things that reminded him of all that was absent and dug out from his body and mind. Words that continued to cut deeper as the knife forged on inside him, reopening the scabs that would never close up.

 _"Benign"_

His body was failing to fight back, the imaginary bindings of leather coaxing him to keep still. It was almost over, it was almost time for him to—

 _"Homecoming"_

The other soldiers moved. Pulling out their batons, electric charges sparking to life. The voice wavered for a small bit, but they forged on like the knife that was inside his head, wanting to reach closer to that place that made the Asset fall back inside.

 _"One"_

He could hear the others yelling, their voices threatening to crowd around, but their words were muddled because only her voice came clear to him like a cloudless blue sky with the sun out.

 _"Freight car"_

( _withyoutilltheendoftheline_ )

The Soldier opened his eyes, counting eight guard they were surrounded by with their batons ready to be used. The other security guards were still ways off, remaining in parade rest unless orders by the Baron were given. The Baron, the Soldier saw, was leaning over the observatory, watching like a hawk.

"Please _Bucky_ , get me out of here," was her quiet order. "Don't let them take me."

She lets him go.

The Soldier complied.

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The Soldier watched the burning base grow farther and farther until it was but a bright speck in the distance from his place behind the chopper's cockpit. The girl, dressed in stolen clothes to cover herself against the cold biting winds from the Siberia winter, stared ahead of her.

There was small specks of blood on her face, but she did nothing to wipe it off. The Soldier, unlike the person sitting next to him, was covered in gore from using bodies as shields against the rain of bullets when there was no cover to fall back into. Thankfully the girl wasn't totally useless, having helped with providing enough distraction and chaos so that he would take off for cover or dive for the next weapon when he ran out of bullets.

Agents, Instructors, Guards, Doctors, the _Baron_ , all killed and left to burn after the Soldier left an explosive when the girl ordered that the entire base be eradicated off the face of the earth.

"Just burn it. Burn it all, I don't care." she croaked, voice clear and unwavering despite the way her body trembled after everything.

They'd soon have to leave the helicopter behind once they reach Moscow, the chances of it being rigged with a tracking device was too high. They also had to avoid other HYDRA bases (again, her orders).

Her orders were abnormal, forcing him to kill his own commanders and destroy the base where he operated. The only time his handlers wanted someone within their faction killed was because of failure, their incompetence, their expired usage to the cause, their arrogance, their use in being made as an example for everyone to keep in line, and a message to anyone who threatened to compromise their cause.

Yet it didn't matter who or what the person, nor the reason why they needed to be eliminated, she simply wanted them all _dead_ and _gone_.

Not only that—she wanted the Soldier to disappear.

She wanted him to leave, to never return to any HYDRA base, safehouse, compound, or other establishments where they operated. The girl wanted him to stay away from everyone, from the cities, towns, villages, or small communities. Whatever compelling feeling he got from wanting to go back, she said, don't follow through with it no matter what. He would disappear, fade into the background where he would have to look over his shoulder at all times.

That was his final mission, said the girl. By far, the most abnormal person to ever command him. Orders were orders, and the Soldier always complied.

"James Buchanan Barnes."

The Soldier turned towards her, but she was staring at the endless snowy landscape ahead of them.

"Don't forget it, it's all you have right now: your name."

( _thatwasthelastgiftshegavebeforesheleft_ )

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He was still there.

Flying faster than he had ever since that time he thought Pepper and Happy were in danger, but he made it to the mansion in Manhattan. The sky had gotten dark, the city lights illuminating the entire metropolis which he carefully navigated with JARVIS silently guiding him. He was going to feel bad about it later when everything was said and done, his voice biting and venomous when JARVIS tried to dissuade this whole confrontation business, urging for Sir to call someone, _please_ because what if this was a trap and what if they Sir was overwhelmed?

Tony wasn't good at listening to logical advice.

The armor landed like a meteor, the ground beneath him caved in and burned from the power of the thrusters. The landing could have gone smoother, more gently really.

( _donotgogentleintothatgoodnight_ )

His face plate folded backwards, letting his eyes rest upon the shadowed figure that had jumped to their feet in surprise when he made land fall. The man in the baseball cap and hoodie sweater was standing in front of two black gravestones surrounded by a small wall of hedges that came to the person's thighs.

The mansion was abandoned mostly, but Tony couldn't bring himself to sell the estate. He hired people to take care of the yard and gardens, his mom loved to grow things when she had time to. Sometimes Howard would even take a small walk outside, a way for him to think about whatever next project for his business, the fresh air giving him some strength before he had to go back down in the basement where it smelled of oil, machines, and booze.

That man standing in front of him looked the same as he did when he killed Howard and Maria all those years ago.

That man standing in front of Tony still looked like James Buchanan Barnes, Captain America's sidekick, one of the Howling Commanders, and a man turned to become the thing that helped destroyed everything everyone helped create in trying to keep the world safe (before SHIELD/HYDRA ruined it).

" _You_ ," Tony growled, his voice threatening to break from merely looking at the monster wearing a familiar ghost's face.

He didn't give the other man time to react. With a lunge forward by the power of his thrusters, his open hand quick to take the grasp of the surprised Winter Soldier by the throat with another fist clutching the front of the sweater before flying towards the back wall of the estate. Behind his plate mask, Tony watched with satisfaction the way the body in his hold crumpled easily like the bricks of the ruined wall did after he rammed the assassin through it.

The Winter Soldier landed on the empty street, coughing and shaking off the dust and small debris that followed him. Tony sneered from behind the mask plate, looking around for anything he could use to flatten this asshole.

"Mr. Stark—"

Not finding anything in his reach, he instead went for the next best thing: a Prius. His suit gave something like a wheeze, the arms and legs enforcing its strength thanks to the arc reactor boosting as power as it could to keep the car from flattening the man inside the suit, Tony then heaved towards where the assassin was.

The dark-haired man stared from a few dumb seconds at the car thrown his way then quickly rolling out of the way of the car's destructive path. Having been so distracted on the possibility of being squished to death, Tony had flown over towards the HYDRA spawn, grabbing him by the ankle to swing his body like a human bat and hit a homerun when it slammed into the next car's windshield.

The man didn't pick himself up again.

By now, all the ruckus Tony was causing was starting to grab some attention. Dark windows from nearby buildings were lit up, curtains pushed aside to reveal curious faces that wanted know what the hell was going on outside their homes, bystanders from a block away were starting to look down the street with worry.

 _"Sir, you must stop. You are, as Ms. Potts would say, in hot water as it is with the explosion at Stark Industries and the highway incident."_

( _I_ _don'tcarehekilledmy **mom**_ )

He walked up to the car, grabbing the Winter Soldier by his dirty, dusty, and torn jeans to drag him off the windshield and hood. When the man didn't look like he was going to get up on his own, his metal fingers curled around the super soldier's throat and lifted him up with their faces inches away from each other.

He wanted to kill this man.

He wanted to so badly kill the Winter Soldier.

Eyes slowly fluttered open, wincing at the intense light flaring on his face from the artificial eye holes the metal face plate provided. They were a brilliant blue, full of pain and resignation as they dizzily tried to focus on Tony.

He wanted to kill this ghost that used to be known as Bucky Barnes.

"What's the Fist of HYDRA doing skulking on my fucking _doorstep_?" Tony hissed, tightening his vice-like grip on the man's throat.

Instead of getting any answers, anything really, the Winter Soldier's eyes rolled back closed and the rest of him became an unconscious dead weight that hung on Tony's hand like how laundry hung on a clothes line. Tony glared hard at the assassin's face, silently willing him to open his eyes and face him, but the Winter Soldier remained unconscious with no indication that he'd be waking up anytime soon.

 _"Sir,"_ JARVIS alerted him, pointing at the increase of attention. It was still too dark, JARVIS had temporarily blacked out the street lamps to give more cover, but if more lights from the apartments nearby came on, it was going to expose him.

There was going to be people wanting answers on why Iron Man was beating up some guy with his weaponized suit.

He was already under fire because of the aforementioned explosion at his company and fight on the highway against Stane. He was only happy nobody, besides the people that were with Pepper, got hurt, but public opinion was shaky at best. Christine Everhart certainty didn't help matters as she liked to bring up his past as an irresponsible drunkard who was way in over his head thinking he could take on the rest of the world with his fancy suits. Just like that, half the people were wowed by Iron Man while the other half looked dubious.

If this scuffle between him and the Winter Soldier got out, it would paint Iron Man in a very bad light. Everyone would be too busy shocked and appalled by the image of the flying superhero to look past the image and deeper within to see what he was really doing. They would compare this to a police officer using too much force on an unarmed civilian, citing brutality.

With the whole media circus keeping him away, slandering his name and purpose, forcing other partner company's to retaliate by cutting off ties to Stark Industries that it would fall incredibly low in the stock market, the Winter Soldier would make off and disappear like the wind.

And Tony wasn't going to let the Winter Soldier walk away. No more disappearing into the shadows like a good HYDRA snake.

He looked back towards the mansion.

"JARVIS?"

 _"Sir?"_

"Do me a solid and call Rhodey. Tell him to bring a police van." Tony hoisted the unconscious super soldier over his shoulder. "And tell Happy to meet me at the airport."

 _"Yes Sir."_

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"What the _hell_...?!"

The Winter Soldier stared back at Rhodey with wary eyes, looking pitiful and not at all like the murderous robot they've read from the files with his dark hair looking like a rat's nest, face bruised and bloody from the ass-whooping Tony gave him, and clothes that looked like the Soldier had stolen off the back of some homeless person. If there was one word Rhodey could pick upon first meeting this legendary phantom menace, it was this: _anticlimactic_.

If anything, the Soldier appeared to be more scared of Rhodey than Rhodey was of him. His metal monstrosity of an arm was stuck between a giant metal clamp, some enforced tool Howard kept in his dead workshop to keep the assassin from going anywhere. Though from the looks of it, the Soldier didn't appear like he could put up any more fights; rather, the dude looked more like he needed to have himself a thorough showering to get rid of the smell and filth he accumulated before being found, not to mention a warm meal in the man's stomach. Judging by the dark bruises under his eyes, the quiet assassin didn't appear to have an easy time in sleeping either.

Shaking off the observation on the shifty super soldier, Rhodey turned his eyes on the person that had him fly all the way to New York at three in the goddamn morning.

He wasn't complaining much about waking up in the odd hours of the early morning, Lord knows how many times Rhodey did that on his own, but a little warning would have been nice. He especially would have appreciated a heads up when it involved the Winter _motherfucking_ Soldier!

Tony meanwhile was sitting across the room. The Iron Man suit was standing upright in sentry mode, ominous eyes gazing down at the Winter Soldier whilst the head of Stark Industries busied himself in munching on some Chinese take-out like he wasn't sitting in the same room with the world's deadliest assassin that had been around kicking ass and taking names since before the Cold War.

Rhodey stared at him.

Tony only offered a shrug.

"I got hungry waiting for you, honey-bear."

Tony then had the audacity to make an obnoxious slurping noise from his plastic cup he sipped through the straw, meeting Rhodey's angry eyes. There was going to be words later on, but for now, he wanted to finish eating his Teriyaki plate before they had to move their prisoner and transport him back to California with them.


	5. Assembling

Oh my gosh! Story updated on the same day this story was created! Happy birthday "Web of Intrigue", long may you bestow your fans love with every new chapter full of adventure and side-stories everyone is dying to read! Sorry I came late to the party, my readers!

I went into the movie theaters feeling I was moments away from a heart attack—and I left the building in the back of a freaking ambulance. I feel like something has exploded and left a huge fucking crater in my chest. I cannot, I cannot, I _cannot_ (slowly dissolves into a a screaming mess from within to echo in the dark vastness of space).

 _Ahem_.

Yay! We're at the last chapter before we move onto "Ariadne's Web"! You guys must be so excited like you're losing your shit from the other side of the computer screen, am I right or what? I'm not only eyeing the sequel but I'm also thinking about going back to "ACASW" to fix that mess up a bit. You can tell from looking at the "Web of Intrigue" that there's been a lot of changes done to make this perfect as I previously mentioned in the last few chapters. But yeah, when you guys have the time, you can go look to see if there's been updates made with "ACASW", but don't go look everyday because I'm too lazy to get right into it. Like, go look into in another month, yeah?

But I'll leave you guys alone to let you read the rest of this story. It's been what ya'll been waiting for since the cliffhanger chapter back in the first story, lol! Remember to leave me a comment because that's what every author kind of lives for!

 **Disclaimer:** MCU belongs to Disney and Marvel Studios/Comics, I only claim ownership over my Original Character(s) and a little bit of the plot!

 **Warning:** Language, Violence, Adult Content, possible Triggers (there will be heads-up for these things), and whatever comes to mind.

 **Trigger Warning! References to SUICIDE IDEATION! Read at your own risk!**

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She was having a panic attack.

Bucky felt his stomach twist, feeling sick at the thought that his presence was terrifying to her.

Even when he tried to reassure her that they weren't here to hurt her (that _he_ wasn't here to hurt her, never again), it fell on deaf ears. Her breathing was tight, like she was inhaling air through a straw. When he felt someone pull him away, he didn't hesitate to back off and let someone else try to calm the poor girl down.

 _'What did you expect, moron?'_ he chided himself, looking away. _'Ya think she was gonna welcome you with open arms?'_

Bucky looked back to the scene, appalled that he had caused such a strong reaction from her. Fury was right, as much as it pained him to admit, Bucky should have stayed away. Just because she had helped him out didn't automatically make them mutual allies, and the high expectations he had set for her caused this disastrous first meeting. God, Bucky felt like a giant asshole here.

"C'mon, you can do it. Again." Stark gently ordered the girl.

Stark held her face in his hands, counting the numbers that she struggled to follow but stumbled little by little until her frustrations with messing up gave her confidence to try and do better. All the while, Stark was uncharacteristically patient with her (or maybe it's because he didn't show this side of himself to Bucky).

"— _SEVEN_ , _EIGHT_ ," the girl forced out after awhile of screwing up the numbers, her eyes still scrunched closed. " _NINE_ , _TEN_."

She was no longer a wheezing mess.

Stark encouraged her to keep going until she no longer struggled with counting, still holding her face up as he counted the numbers alongside her. The strong grip she had on his wrists (Bucky wondered if there was going to be bruises or sprained wrists later) until her hold grew lax. The tense atmosphere was no longer crowding the small apartment and the feeling of something about to burst into violence quietly evaporated into nothing.

She opened her eyes for the first time. Big coffee brown eyes, still frightened as he remembered.

 _'No thanks to you, jerk.'_

"Okay, not how I imagined my meeting with the illusive Spider-Woman would go, but I suppose it's better than getting a punch in the face or something." Stark greeted her, missing the sharp look Bucky threw at the back of billionaire's head at the allusions he knew the older man was referencing towards. "Also, nice to finally meet you, Ms. Not-so-Itsy-Bitsy-Spider."

"Why do you keep comparing other meetings with people to _our_ meeting?" Bucky quietly complained, feeling miserable enough to know he was the root of some of today's problems (and certain people). Stark had the right to be cross with him, more so given what happened in the past, but to Bucky it was a joke told in poor taste.

"Really? You can't actually expect someone to act all courteous after finding out certain things, Barnes." Bucky warily eyed the Black Widow who sidles up next to him, a single brow raised at him. "Be glad Stark went with a love tap rather than straight out murdering you."

Bucky didn't bother to say that he _did_ have moments where he wished Stark did follow through with his threat and killed him on the spot. The world would have been better off without the Winter Soldier to haunt them. His line of thinking sometimes caused him to stare at the power tools Stark left lying around in his workshop with consideration.

But then those ideas were scrapped immediately when he found himself locked out of places by JARVIS (this was probably payback for having tattled on Stark when the man was dying). It was a punch in the gut when Rhodey gave him those knowing looks, feelings like shame and worthlessness crawling over Bucky's face because he couldn't stand up to what he did.

It was the coward's way out. How could he do that to himself? Run away with his tail between his legs when there was a man who he worked closely with, and who was dedicating himself into fixing all his wrongs despite the world slandering his name?

Stark was an ass when he wanted to be, but after being kidnapped, tortured, escaping, shutting down his weapons company, he still looked everyone in the eye with his head held high and promised the world to turn his mistakes around and do _better_. His ignorance and scandals blinded him of the truth, and seeing what he saw, he was going to protect his country and others the only way he could: by building himself a suit of flying armor and personally taking responsibility for it.

( _ifamanmadeofironcanspite **death** socanyou_)

Stark finally deigned them a crossed look from over his shoulder, his hands still holding the stunned girl's face. "Did you seriously call that ass-whooping a love tap?"

"... What the _fuck_?"

"Oh hey, she speaks!" Tony praised. "You good? You look good."

"Ah, I..." she rapidly blinked, still looking a bit overwhelmed. "W- _what_?"

"I'm gonna let you go now." Tony warned her before slowly drawing his hands away from her face, taking a step away to give her breathing room. "I don't have to worry about you sticking webs in my face, do I?"

She shook her head, her shorts strands of dyed locks swaying while still sporting the wide-eyed look.

"Ms. Booker," the Black Widow stepped in. "Do you know who we are?"

The girl stared at Natasha in a cautious manner as she met the Widow's sharp eyes. The answer finally came in the form of a slow nod, her eyes never leaving the assassin in front of her. This information made Bucky blink in surprise. The Black Widow program wasn't as obscured as the Winter Soldier, but it's secrets were just as guarded. It made him wonder if the girl heard it in passing way back when they were still with HYDRA with some higher ups wanting to recreate it, or if she had come across it when she was looking through the USB.

The only reason Stark knew about the Black Widows was because Bucky told him after his scuffle with the redhead. Seeing her face jogged his memory of previous missions where her information came up in HYDRA's radar after she defected from her former organization before SHIELD recruited her.

"James Buchanan Barnes," he startled to hear his name again from her, and she was looking at him straight in the eye with no hint of breaking down like she did moments earlier. "Captain America's best friend."

That was what she told him once, Bucky remembered when he watched the girl disappear on the snow covered streets of Moscow, his name given to him like a gift. A name so foreign yet seemed to click as a missing puzzle piece that fit, not quite well, but slipping into his empty space all the same.

Months of running, wandering, fighting off HYDRA agents that dogged his heels, memories old and new filtering inside his mind that they slowly drove him mad, all of it gradually opening the door back to his humanity where he spent running around the streets of Brooklyn with his best friend before running after the scrawny guy who turned into a beef cake into the war. A journey that took him so long but finally led him straight into the familiar streets of the city he was born in. And it led him to stopping in front of a closed off mansion that he vaguely remembered was bright with expensive chandeliers and foofy-tasting champagne.

And that led to Tony Stark finding him (after knocking Bucky around, of course).

She pulled her eyes away from him to face the older man. "And you're Tony Stark. Iron Man."

"Do you know who I am?" the Black Widow asked. Bucky wasn't the only one who caught the girl's expression when she eyed the other woman.

"Sort of," she gave a light shrug. "You're good at manipulating people; especially when they're vulnerable."

It was like an accusation being thrown at the Black Widow. Bucky's memory was still a little screwed up, but he was smart enough not reveal anything to the redhead or else she would dissect it and end up throwing it back into his face when he least expected it. This was proven true when she did this with Tony, playing with the man's vulnerability while he was fucking _dying_.

And now the younger woman was giving the Black Widow a challenging look, daring the Widow to refute her claims.

"Now, now," the billionaire slides between the two women. "As entertaining as it would be to see two spiders duke it out, we've come to you in peace."

"I..." the girl faltered. "There's nothing else I can tell you. I'm sorry if you didn't find enough inside the USB's—"

"Where did you find them?" the Black Widow interrupted, ignoring Stark's sharp look.

"An agent gave it to me. I don't know if he was one of yours."

There was confusion from all sides. What agent was she talking about? Better yet: what agent thought it was a smart idea to give such vital information to a young woman who they had no clue about? Unless... Bucky forced himself to stop, breath in and exhale a few times, and wait for the rest of the story. There was more to it.

"Which agent?"

"Parker. Rick and Mary Parker."

Silence fell over the Black Widow, her frame turning taut with tension despite her face giving away nothing.

"Somebody you know, Romanoff?" Stark demanded. The Widow didn't say anything, and after awhile the girl continued.

"I was on the plane with them. The Oceanic Flight 0422."

"You talking about the plane crash from last year?" Stark asked after a moment. " _You were there_?!"

The girl nodded and Bucky's mind flew back in time where he heard about the incident while passing through a small town in Europe. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, too busy following his own leads towards a city while navigating around the HYDRA cells who were in the area.

"The reports came that there was a gunfight—"

"Are these guys idiots or something? You can't shoot a gun inside a cabin pressure aircraft!"

"—and there was even signs of an explosion near one of the exit areas of the plane." the Black Widow bored her eyes at the girl, silently ordering her to start talking or else.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Stark glared at the redhead. "So this was one of your guys then? How come I'm only hearing this now?"

"It didn't seem relevant at the time."

The older man stared at the redhead for a long time, dark eyes not blinking.

"Wow," a humorless chuckle came from the businessman. "I can only start imagining what other irrelevant things you and Fury got hiding behind your closet full of dirty secrets. Should I also be expecting bodies as well, agent Romanoff?"

Bucky decided to continue with the questioning before an argument blew out between Stark and the Black Widow. They were running on precious time and there was plenty of other opportunities that could saved for later.

"How'd you escape?" he asked the girl.

"When one of the HYDRA agents threw a grenade at me—"

" _What_?" Stark snapped to attention at that.

"I managed to pull out an inflatable from the plane's entrance right before I opened the exit and got sucked out." the girl explained. "I was able to avoid getting caught in the explosion."

"I can't believe you actually pulled an Indiana Jones." Stark remarked, sounding both sides of shocked and impressed.

"I saw it on Myth Busters once, so I thought I'd give it a shot considering my only option was staying inside a burning plane about to crash."

"What're Myth Busters?" Bucky couldn't help but ask.

"Focus people," the Black Widow drawled, tone bordering a little on the impatient side.

"They found me in Spain," the girl continued. "Just my luck that I escaped one team only to fall in the lap of another's. Well, they weren't expecting me because they were too busy trying to kill Rick and his wife."

Bucky knew she was speaking the truth. He had, at the time, been in Spain as well.

Developing enough of a conscience after being away from HYDRA's (the _Chair's_ ) influence, the memories behind the wall of ice began to thaw and come in until there was enough for him to piece together the puzzle. His past was vague, frightening often times, but beyond them there was a neighborhood whom he walked alongside a scappy-looking boy who had trouble breathing and wore clothes too big for his little frame.

The more he started to understand (he wrote them down in journals he stole, writing them mostly in Russian before struggling to write them in English), he felt both excited and _horrified_.

The name the girl had left with him before she disappeared rang like an alarm bell. A name that started to go with a face, a story, a life lived before it was torn apart by Doctors, Scientists, and suffering. Their personal block of ice they would carve with sharp knives until the Winter Soldier was all that remained of Bucky Barnes, the Howling Commando who stood beside his long time best friend, Steve Rogers.

Her order was still there, but he understood what they meant. They were meant to keep Bucky safe, keep him away from his captors, keep him free so they wouldn't fall back into the real enemy's hands. There was still the urges, still some part of him that begged to be put back into the cold chambers so he would return to sleep and forget his experiences. The girl must've known that everywhere he would go, he would be in constant danger, so he had to keep away for his own safety... but he couldn't. The girl was probably the only person in the world who didn't mean him harm, and they were going to hunt her down. He couldn't leave her to that horrible fate. That's when he, for the first time in forever, decided a mission for himself: save the girl who saved the Winter Soldier.

( _andgaveyouatasteofwarmthsoaddictingyouwantedmore_ )

He had missed her by two days. Surprising a group of agents that were harassing some poor man and his family's home; he questioned the trembling husband who stuttered the entire time, dead agents surrounding them, until Bucky learned that the girl had bribed the man into helping her get a plane ride into the United States.

The Black Widow's hard stare wasn't letting up.

He already could see what conclusions she was coming to after hearing the girl's story, and if Bucky had been in her shoes he would have also starting giving the small woman an assessing look. Sneaking inside a place where it also included a couple of SHIELD and HYDRA agents which resulted in everyone dying? Yeah, the whole story sounded pretty suspicious to be coincidence, and in their line of work there was no such thing as coincidence.

But then there was the argument where the Widow had acted too quickly with her assumptions, thinking that the Winter Soldier was back to finish the job when he shot through her to get to the nuclear scientist; Bucky's only crime was showing up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Originally heading towards the break room to meet up with Happy, Bucky had come across Pepper who was struggling with a heavy box in her arms. Not wanting to leave her with the burden, he offered to take it and trailed after the businesswoman towards the main office she and Stark shared.

Suffice to say, he didn't get a chance to go out for some of that delicious pizza Happy was telling him about.

The girl seemed to also know what was going on in everyone's mind, especially with the Black Widow. She immediately knew that with a story like hers, this put her in a tight spot where she was both a witness and suspect to the events that happened before and after the plane crash.

"I know. I'm the only survivor and anything I could be a fabricated story, but I don't have anything to prove to you that I'm not against you." she sighed, crossing her arms like she was trying to comfort herself because of the scrutiny she was under.

"But you're not working with us," the Widow quickly points out.

"With _you_? I can shoot webs and beat up thugs, but even I'm not stupid enough to get tangled with your kind."

The Black Widow opened her mouth to say more, probably trade blows and get more of a reaction so she could read the girl better, but Stark once again stepped in.

"That's enough. We've wasted enough time with your twenty questions. Ask her later after we get her out." Tony ordered then turned to the girl. "Listen kid, as much as I like to talk—and I _really_ do want to talk—we're on a tight schedule here."

The girl appeared taken aback then started to scan her door and windows of the apartment. Again, a cautious look bloomed over her face, her demeanor becoming more tight with tension as she returned her gaze back to Stark.

"Are there people looking for me?" she asked, her voice soft and her eyes turning frightened.

"There's a high possibility, yes." Bucky answered, feeling awful of bearing the bad news and shattering the girl's life of normalcy.

The Black Widow cuts in before they could continue. "We're bringing you in. Are you okay with that?"

Bucky wasn't the only one giving the Widow dark looks. The young woman knew she was in no position to rebuff them, not if she wanted to keep her freedom a little while longer. Stark walked up to the girl, easily resting a hand on her shoulder and gesturing towards the doorway.

"You can do your power play once when we're in a safe location, Romanoff. I think it's time we blew this Popsicle stand."

"What about my stuff?" the girl asked, looking back towards her bedroom door.

"That's why we have the clean up crew, Itsy Bitsy." Stark said, leading the way towards the door. "We'll send it to California later on when it's safe enough. And don't worry, I got your little costume right here."

Much later, Bucky was going to ponder about the possibility of karma actually existing in scales because just when the good stuff started to get heavy on one side, bad shit was allowed to rise up and give them all a nasty surprise.

Before Stark could open the door, the girl suddenly grabbed the older man by his arm and yanked him backwards while she kicked a foot forward to dislodge the door frame from its hinges, sending it crashing into the other wall opposite of the doorway. The brief pause that left them bewildered at the random act of violence was quickly answered when they noticed a fallen weapon on the floor. His eyes trailing towards the door, Bucky got a good look to see the arms and legs sticking out from the door frame, the person knocked into unconsciousness before he could think about riddling them full of bullets had the girl not caught on.

"That was a scout." Bucky noted, seeing no one else in the hallway.

"I can hear the others moving in," the girl announced, head tilting in a way that said she was listening for something only she could hear. "I think more than ten."

"I hear them, too." Bucky caught the distant thumping of multiple heavy combat boots climbing the stairs from both sides of the hallway. They were going to flush them from either side.

The Black Widow pulled away, tapping into her own comms to give Coulson and the others a heads up.

Bucky was going to have words with Coulson later because he wanted to know why these bastards were able to slip through the perimeter without their notice, but he needed to focus on more important things like surviving while not revealing his face. The soldier grabbed the ski mask he had tucked away in his back pocket, slipping it on as he pulled a handgun from its holster tucked inside his jacket. Under no circumstances was he to reveal his face to the public, nor that he was hiding under Stark's protection.

The medical team still were working on dismantling the trigger words from his head, so him staying hidden would keep anyone from making him go berserk should they happen to have the words on them.

Bucky would sooner choke on a bullet than turn against Stark and everyone who's ever been involved in helping him find his way back. Months spent hanging around the SI company and medical team gradually brought on the idea that not everyone was out to get him, that not every doctor was going to rip him from the inside out like his former handlers did, and not one of them was going to let any harm come to Bucky.

The feeling was mutual.

"Well, I guess now's a good a time as any." Stark said as he summoned his gauntlets from the two metal bracelets he carried with him almost everywhere. The rest of the suit, Bucky knew, would be following soon after. Stark pulled a familiar black and white cloth up to the girl's face. "You up for round two, kiddo?"

The girl grabbed the suit, shrugging off her own dark blazer with a determined look in her dark eyes. No longer was there a fragile and frightened girl but a young woman prepared to unleash war upon the morons who dared to threaten her freedom.

"Ready when you are, Mr. Stark."

* * *

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 _ **B Ƭ**_

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* * *

Escaping from one prison only to land his ass in another, life was funny that way.

That, or it was telling Bucky he didn't deserve to walk away scot free because the only reward men like him deserved was so much worse than whatever deed HYDRA committed. Every life taken, every chance destroyed, every good thing stolen, manipulated or not, these were his crimes. Whatever judgement these people made on him, he had to accept.

( _allthewhilestiflingasmallvoicethatpleadedtolive_ )

From inside the enforced glass prison which was quickly set up for him, something that surprisingly left him feeling quite impressed at the precautions they took to keep someone like him secured, he was left to sit on a cot (a luxury item?) and watch the people outside watching him. There was four of them: three men and a woman.

The ginger-haired businesswoman was Stark's CEO, Potts. He recognized her on the tabloids he read from public trash bins when he'd been looking for some food. The last time he checked she was Stark's personal assistant, or henchwoman as some said, but she'd been given reign of the entire company due to some reason Bucky didn't know. Yet. The man who accompanied her was big. Bigger than Bucky even, but he didn't look all that well trained enough to take him on, not that a lot of people were thanks to his bastardized version of the serum.

The next guy was another one of Stark's closest confidants. An important official of the military who previously served as a liaison of Stark Industries who was clever not to turn his back on Bucky even when it was safe to do so with the Winter Soldier secured by something to keep him from moving. The Airman kept his eyes trained on the Soldier, gun aimed and kept away from Bucky's range to prevent his quick reflexes from getting his hands on it. The Lieutenant Colonel was the second dangerous person in the room.

The billionaire never left the Soldier out of his sight, a glowing armored gauntlet ready to discharge in his face if he made the wrong move. The entire trip was full of silence and tension when they safely delivered him inside the mansion's basement, but even with him locked up and on the other side of the glass wall, the suspense never left anyone.

Bucky Barnes—she called him _Bucky_ , the history books from the libraries called him _Bucky Barnes_ , his new captors called him _Barnes_ —sat quietly in his prison while the others looked into these holographic screens they held in their hands, something that stirred a slight fascination and awe within him but was immediately snuffed out. There was an absence of noise, their lips moving but they were smart to turn away from him so he wouldn't be able to read their lips.

These people were clever, Bucky thought, but only slightly.

Finally, all eyes fell back on him. Howard's son stepped towards a panel and pressed something, and Bucky could guess from how sound seemed to be negated by the wall surrounding him, it was a speaker intercom being connected between this space and the one outside the glass prison.

"Do you know who I am?" Stark asked. Demanded. Eyes as dark as they were when he saw them up close in the night.

"Anthony Edward Stark," Bucky's mouth moved before his brain could respond. "Born 1970 in the 29th of May, owner and CEO of Stark Industries. Specialize in weapons manufacturing—"

" _Stop_." Stark's voice ripped through the fog, bringing him back to the basement, the glass walls, the four people staring at him with wide eyes. " _Jesus_ , shut your mouth, Barnes."

His teeth clacked noisily from how quickly he snapped his mouth.

"... I thought it was bad, Tones," the Lieutenant Colonel spoke in hushed tones, unaware that the intercom was still on. "But I didn't know how _fucked up_ he was."

"He sounds like a goddamn robot!" the bigger man of the three spoke up, nothing bothering to lower his volume. "DUM-E's got more spunk that this guy!"

Potts pushed herself between the three men, looking straight at Barnes like she was daring herself to look straight into the maw of something horrific from people's worst nightmares. He prepared himself for what was to come, the inevitable judgment when he would stand trial for the atrocities he committed.

It was something he imagined when he thought of the multiple scenarios of the victims whom he would face when they discovered his identity and part in destroying their lives while reaping the rewards HYDRA collected, calling them trophies to celebrate in another successful effort to direct humanity the way they wanted it to go.

"Why were you at that house?"

But he was not expecting that.

Bucky momentarily floundered, forgetting that he had a mouth and voice to answer the question. Nobody demanded he hurry, no one snapped at him to get his attention straightened, so after a few seconds, he finally replied.

"I remembered it being open," he said, voice slow and unsure. "I... I think I was there. It was at a party. Someone I knew—No, maybe I didn't know him well."

Stark moved, moving to a different panel where his fingers flew rapidly across the keyboards.

A picture morphed in front of Bucky, in front of his prison.

He knew that man. Definitely knew all the other people that surrounded him, too, his mind screamed from somewhere in the depths of his forgotten self. He hurried towards the image, wishing there was nothing between him and the picture that he wanted to touch with his flesh hand.

He wanted to grab it possessively, keep it close and never let go, bite and kick anyone who dared to try and take it from him because this was something he didn't want to impart so easily now that he had physical proof that there was a man before a killer. There was a life before this hell he lived up to until released, a world that aged while he remained behind. But it was right there, a picture that meant so much of what he hesitated to claim as his own until he was sure that it was real.

This was something he wanted for himself because all that he had was taken, stolen, hidden, shredded beyond recognition until he was nothing but a mindless puppet who had nothing to his name but his mission and orders. He wanted it because there was proof that life before the pain and hurt and cold was real, was warm, was true.

"Do you even remember them?" Stark's voice came back to ground him once more, solidifying that he was more than the Soldier, the Asset, and the Fist of HYDRA.

"I remember all of them."

* * *

 **.*.**

 **B Ƭ**

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* * *

Four of the mercenaries went ahead, weapons up as they took in the hallway where one of their own lied battered beneath a broken door with its hinges barely clinging on the side of the wooden frame. The leader of the small team signaled for two of them to proceed while him and another stayed behind to keep an eye on the hallway for any unexpected surprises.

From the corner of his eye, he watched the pair enter the quiet apartment building. The doorway led into the darkness of the apartment. One of them tried to flick on the lights but nothing happened. The two switched on their flashlights and night vision then quietly returned to searching the small abode for any hidden figures they were order to subdue by their client who promised them a handsome amount of money should they retrieve the target.

The bedroom and bathroom was empty, kitchen and living room area included. They even went so far as to check the cupboards that could fit a child inside, but still nothing to reveal a hiding wall-crawler. The two searched another five minutes before calling it quits. The Spider-Woman must've known they were coming and fled out the window, but not after she knocked out one of their own when he tried to catch her by surprise.

"Shit," one of them cursed while heading towards the entrance. "Gotta check if they caught her outside!"

The other gave the apartment one last look before following after his partner, cursing under his breath.

"Who the hell tipped her—?" the mercenary loudly demanded to his partner and boss before being cut off abruptly.

Three things happened in the span of a few seconds.

First thing that happened was coming upon the scene of his partner slumping down on the floor after a redheaded woman released him from her clutches. Behind her, a man in a black ski mask stood straight from looming over the other two men that were suppose to be watching the area.

Second thing that happened was getting knocked off his feet from a blow that came behind him, the world tipping horizontally then becoming topsy turvy when he found himself being slid off the ground and up in the air by his legs. He thrashed, but he got increasingly tangled by something sticky that continued to cover him until it reached his upper torso.

And lastly, he watched an apartment door open for Iron Man to step out.

Then it was lights out.

"Wow!" Tony couldn't help but compliment as the young girl gracefully landed back to ground level. Flimsy suit or not, it was quite the ass-kicking show a lot of people on the streets hyped it up to be. "That was much cooler up close than having to watch it in some crappy camera on somebody's phone. But it was also kinda gross."

"Gross?" the wide-eyed mask turned towards him.

"I mean, with the whole web thing, all of it kind of sticky and gooey while you were wrapping him like a fresh taco on Tuesday. Sorry, but it was gross."

"Mr. Iron Man?" a little old lady's voice stirred him from crowding the front door.

"Oh, so sorry to inconvenience you, Mrs. Finnigan!" Tony apologized, carefully taking the withered and wrinkled hand of the small lady. "JARVIS already got your number and we'll work on moving you to a much nicer and safe neighborhood, along with all the other tenants caught up with this—"

"You take care of that Edelweiss, ya hear?" Mrs. Finnigan firmly warned Tony, as if promising to whack him with her cane she had if he messed up. "That poo' girl's been cryin' her heart ou' since she go' here."

"Don't worry," Tony promised. "I'll take care of her. Promise."

He owed it to Itsy Bitsy, thrusting him into a much bigger circle of awareness than he had ever been since returning from Afghanistan.

"Stark!" Romanoff's voice snapped with JARVIS quietly reminding him of the dire situation they were in.

"Head back inside and lock the door." Tony warned the old lady before stepping away from the doorway.

 _"Sir, it seems more reinforcement are closing in the hallway."_ JARVIS warned him, bringing up small CCTV cameras in the side of his holographic panel to watch the two teams coming to block them from both sides. _"Your next course of action?"_

"Excuse me?" Itsy Bitsy waves a gloved hand at him. "Do you happen to have a flash grenade on you?"

"Um," he looked down at his multi-billion dollar suit that was modified and designed to carry any and all weapons he could get away with and fit inside. "I think so."

"You take that side and we take this?" she suggested, thumb pointing towards the other end of the hallway of the incoming mercenaries.

Quick and to the point, something he could appreciate when he wanted things done in time without causing collateral damage. It was both thoughtful about the people who were hiding inside their apartments and nowhere near demanding like when Fury or Romanoff tried to lead the whole operation with more force than cooperation from Stark's side. The bonus was that Itsy Bitsy was asking him nicely, so Tony didn't hesitate to pull out one of his many flash grenades from his gauntlet and tossed it over to the girl.

"Thank you!" she beamed.

Tony smiled when Romanoff gave him a look over her shoulder. Anything to tick the Black Widow off was a good mark in his book, but he could tease the redhead in a later date because right now he had another little spider to help out of her own sticky situation. Gosh, there was a lot of puns today, wasn't there? He probably needed a drink or someplace to take a nap because this was kind of getting out of hand.

"You know how to use that?" Barnes asked the girl, picking up a weapon off the floor.

"I got it," the young lady assured. "Don't start shooting here yet. This place isn't exactly bulletproof."

"Those assholes ain't inclined to agree with you, doll." Barnes pointed out.

 _'Doll?!'_ Tony blinked from behind his helmet.

"They won't get a chance to."

And with that, she threw her flash grenade towards the other end of the hall. Tony quickly turned away, facing his side of the hallway when JARVIS warned him of the imminent arrival of his own squad of mercenaries. With a thrust of his boosters, Iron Man flew down the hall to meet the surprised faces of the armed men and rammed into them like a bowling ball to a stack of bobbing pins.

While he was busying himself in knocking the men backwards with he force of his suit, pushing them all back out to where they came from, uncaring of the bullets bouncing off his armor (and idiotically catching the bullets, lowering their numbers), he watched in the corner of his eye from the CCTV camera of the other hallway. The flash grenade he gave to the kid blinded the gunmen, momentarily stopping them in their tracks. That hesitation costed them big time because they were instantly set upon by both the Spider-Woman and Winter Soldier.

Black Widow helped, Tony grudgingly noted as well.

The girl was leaping around the hallway, snatching away guns and throwing them away from the range of the mercenaries while webbing their faces to distract them from the powerful incoming fist of Barnes. Black Widow weaved around the crowd, knocking them with her killer thighs and making quick work take out as many as she could get away with.

 _"Sir. If I can take you away from the screen for a moment, please."_

"Right." Tony focused back on pushing the other mercenaries to the outside ground of the apartment complex. The kid was right, those hallways weren't tough enough to withstand flying bullets, so he wasn't going to risk firing a repulsor blast if it meant people were going to get a nasty surprise when something crashing into their homes and potentially killing them.

Once the men stumbled and fell backwards on the stairs, Iron Man blasted his thrusters and blew everyone backwards, sending them flying in various directions. One of them even flew into the public pool with a loud splash.

Something scratched gratingly against his suit.

He snuck a look over his shoulder to find a broken knife pressed against the space between his neck and shoulder, where his jugular was. The surprised face of the mercenary baffled Tony for a brief second.

"Didn't anyone tell you not to bring a knife to a gun fight, moron?"

And with that, Tony literally blew him off with a single repulsor blast to the chest. Honestly, what made that mercenary think he had a chance against a bullet proof armor that had taken hits from tanks and fighter jets with a flimsy knife? Whoever hired this bunch was either a moron or a cheapskate because these jackasses only had quantity not quality to them.

Or maybe, Tony thought, that was the point. These losers weren't really the top of the game because they're of a cheap brand hired by someone within HYDRA (or SHIELD). The whole thing could be a test which they didn't expect their runaway to cheat on with her own little back-up.

"How are the others holding up, J?" Tony asked as he slowly ascended, making sure his side was well and truly taken care of.

Coulson better move his ass pronto because they needed these guys to be taken in and interrogated. Several of them were bound to give away a clue of their client.

 _"Sir? The situation has been handled. It's only..."  
_

"Only what?"

 _"You might want to meet up with the others, Sir."_

* * *

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* * *

It was insane, Pepper argued.

It was wrong, Rhodey returned.

Happy was the only one who looked at him, silently asking what their next move would be. Because in the end, this was Tony's decision. He had someone's life sitting in the palm of his hands, a life that had been used to destroy all others.

It would be within his rights to take care of the problem, permanently removing James Barnes. Maybe nobody would be able to look him in eye, but they would understand because they were there, they saw what was done, they know what the Winter Soldier took part in. So if this ended in bloody hands and a truth that would never reach the light of day, Tony knew the others would take this to their graves.

But he needed to know something.

A question which pestered him since he returned from New York with his parents' murderer in tow, tucked away inside his basement. Time where he spent staring up at the ceiling, quietly talking to JARVIS, not paying attention to the cooking channel, not even able to focus on SI plans or business proposals.

This question needed an answer, and he was going to get it.

Another sleepless night where the day took care to illuminate the bags under his eyes, Tony climbed down the stairs of his workshop and ignored his bots that were curiously poking the glass prison. Grabbing a functional gauntlet and wrapping it around his wrist so it would fold easily around his hand, he ignored JARVIS' inquiries and unlocked the door of the prison.

Barnes went still.

"Mr. Stark."

Pulling up a rolling stool so he'd have something to sit, because he wasn't going to sit in close proximity to that fuck, and he sure wasn't going to use the toilet as his sitting spot, he made sure to keep a good distance from inside the prison. Blue eyes glanced down at his repulsor, acutely aware of the power behind the blasts once Tony made a quick adjustment to it.

"There's been something that's bothered me, Barnes." Tony slowly began once he was settled, dark gaze taking in the man sitting on the far edge of the cot like he was trying to coil away from Tony. "Something that's, well, kept me up late at night."

Barnes remained utterly silent, watching him like a hawk.

"What are you doing here?"

When the dark-haired man moved to speak, Tony interrupted him because somehow he knew he was going to talk in circles about the memories that were or weren't there clogging his head. That's not what Tony wanted.

"No, I don't care about your amnesia deal." Tony bit out. "All I want to know is how a brainwashed assassin ended up in the front steps of my family's house."

Barnes went absolutely quiet, his eyes falling low. Tony was tempted to shoot him then and there, end it all because this was going nowhere. Just when it was beginning to sink in that he was not going to get his answers, Barnes finally spoke up.

"Someone saved me," he quietly confessed.

The engineer paused in his move of standing up from the stool. "What?"

"A... a girl. She couldn't have been older than twenty, I don't know... But even after everything, she took me away from them."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Tony seethed, feeling more confused than satisfied. "What girl?!"

"A girl HYDRA stole, from... from somewhere far away. They wanted a weapon, but they got her instead. But she tricked them, fooled everyone, and when she ran, she took me along." Barnes struggled to explain. "She was a strong person. Stronger than me. But she was scared, so incredibly scared even after I broke her bones many times!"

The confession made Tony's stomach constrict like worms, all sick and squirming as a bile rose in the back of Tony's throat.

"Even when they cut her, bruised her, beat her, did other awful things to her, she took me with her. I helped her destroy the base, eradicate every one of those bastards who hurt us both." Tony was shocked to see tears streaming down the man's face. "I don't know why! I don't know why she did, but she saved me!"

Slowly, Tony returned to the stool. Eyes watching Barnes as he folded over, eyes red with tears and mouth wet, the other man cried quietly. If this was an act then Emmy Awards belonged to this guy right in front of him.

"Tell me who she is." Tony wanted to know. There was a feeling, something deep down telling him to shut up and listen closely because it was a blink-and-you-miss kind of thing he was dealing with. "Barnes? Who is she?"

"She... told me my name before she left me all alone. She told me what my name was, my real name." Barnes sobbed. "She's really a strong person, Mr. Stark. She moves like... like she isn't _human_. But she's scared, and that's why I was trying to find her."

 _"They're not_ normal _. It was like I was—it was like I was up against a_ super human _."_

Happy's words from a month ago came ringing loudly in his ears like church bells. Giant spider webs, a small individual dressed in a tight skin suit, moving inhumanely and quickly to subdue the security team assigned to Pepper and the other businessmen.

Someone who warned him of HYDRA.

Someone who quickly and silently disappeared after leaving Pepper with their message.

Someone who led Barnes all the way to New York.

Standing up, he marched out of the prison glass, not caring that it was left open. Passing the many work stations with various projects left on the side, Tony reached his main desk and yanked one of the drawers out. The whole thing spilled out, messily falling all over the floor but he didn't give a rats ass about that, what mattered was where he left the picture he took with him from the sketch artist.

The only clue he had of the person's identity.

Finding it, and grabbing the other photos he took from the scene, he quickly made his way back to the glass prison where Barnes remained. The man looked trapped with the door open than he did with it closed, wide eyes taking in Tony's crazed movements. Once he was close enough, he flipped the picture and showed it to the assassin, watching his expression.

"Does this mean anything to you?" Tony presented Barnes the picture, letting the assassin grab it along with the other pictures. "Do you know who this is?"

Finally, Barnes moved.

He snatched the photos, eyes dancing back and forth as he took in everything while Tony reminded himself to keep a distance, keep out of range from the super soldier less it give the bastard an upper hand to break his neck and move onto the next target (Rhodey, Pepper, Happy). Recognition gleamed from those dead eyes, dying them bright blue than dull steel.

"She was here." Barnes whispered, a note of relief in his voice. "She really was here."

"And she left me a present." Tony chimed in.

Barnes suddenly remembered that he wasn't alone.

"JARVIS."

At his command, JARVIS sprang up documents and old film reels of every HYDRA activity that took place, and some most recent. Barnes moved towards the glass wall again, taking in everything before finally coming to a stop when they fell on the Stark assassination file. Howard and Maria's profiles, pictures of their attendance in galas and charities where they posed together in front of the camera, few of them where Tony was featured because he was away in boarding school or college.

"She gave this to you...?"

"Yes."

Barnes stared at the files a minute longer.

"I'm glad you know then." Barnes murmured. "I'm only remembering a few things about myself, so better that you know now what happened to them than find out years later when I suddenly remember killing your mother and father."

Tony had to remember to breathe, slowly and precisely so he won't scream.

"Do you think everything is here? All of HYDRA's activities? Even their current ones?" Tony dared to ask.

The other man shook his head, long dark hair swaying with him. "The organization is always on the move, always quick to work when some things go wrong. You have a lot of information to start with, but they can easily be changed should HYDRA feel that a part of them has been exposed."

"Do you know their movements? Their next plans of actions?"

"Some."

"But enough."

"Enough." Barnes nodded.

Both of them stared at the files, the pictures in their hands scattered on the floor with the only remaining image of a black and white figure with pink marks and bulbous blue shoes staring back at them.

"You're going to help me."

Barnes looked at him.

"I'm not asking you; I'm telling you that you're going to help me find these bastards, find all these snakes, and find the motherfucker who ordered the hit, and you're not going to give me any lip." Tony snarled at him. "Do you understand?"

Slowly, Barnes nodded. He had no choice. His life was in Tony's hands now, and he was going to take full advantage by finding every piece of connection that would eventually lead towards the main head who condemned his family to their deaths. And he was going to slowly topple HYDRA, carefully undoing every intricate plan they've been waiting years to set upon the rest of the world only to realize they were only setting themselves on fire.

Tony was going to watch them _burn_.

( _herecomestheironandthefrostthatfollowsafter_ )

* * *

 **.*.**

 **B Ƭ**

 **.*.**

* * *

One minute everyone was fighting, trying to lessen the commotion, trying damn hard to keep it all within the parking lot and kiddie park so nobody from the apartment complex or nearby houses would get involved in their bloody fiasco, and the next minute...

A fucking circus rolls up.

 ** _Shup!_**

"Oh," the girl watched a body fall over, an arrow sticking out from the neck. "Okay."

 _ **Shup! Shup!**_

"Finally took your time!" Romanoff called over her shoulder from where she was strangling some guy. "Getting old, Clint?"

"Sorry," in comes a guy straight out of Green Arrow comics, except he seemed to favor the color purple. "It was kind of fun to see her bouncing around like a hyperactive kid who's eaten too many candies. And what are _thooose_?!"

The archer was staring pointedly at the girl's bulbous blue Croc shoes, not even paying attention to where he was aiming and releasing his arrows even though they hit their intended target without hassle. Bucky and the girl exchanged looks.

"Yeah, he's weird." Bucky could only tell the masked girl before returning his attention on breaking some random mercenary's arm.

"That's no way to greet your sniper bro, man! We're practically brothers, or like brothers from other mothers! Great-grandmothers!"

Bucky ignored him, more intent with beating someone up than paying attention to whatever garbage was coming out of that other guy's mouth. Maybe she was imagining it, but was Bucky picturing Clint's face on that mercenary because he was really pounding that guy into the dirt.

"Okay. That's good to hear." Spider-Woman nodded to herself, barely noticing someone crawling towards a fallen gun to grab and aim towards her. " _Shit_...!"

Before she could move, jump away, throw a web at his face, or anyone else do something about him, something came speeding towards the mercenary at alarming speed. The only thing the girl could catch was that it was red... and blue... and white...?

" _Gwuah_!"

The object that slammed into the mercenary's back bounced off, and it was during this time when Tony arrived, landing between Bucky and the Spider-Woman who were watching the large sphere-shaped object fly around. It hit an electric pole, a jungle gym, and a nearby car (better hope they have great car insurance because that was one big dent on the car door) before it sped back towards where it came from.

Right into the hands of a man standing at the far edge of the parking lot under the flickering light of a lamp post.

Everyone stopped and stared.

Steve Rogers gave them all an awkward smile. "Hi."

"What the _fuck_?" both Bucky and Tony blurted out loud.


End file.
